If I Knew
by LyraLynch
Summary: The only thing that's keeping Loki sane during his imprisonment, are his books and the woman who delivers them to him. Set before The Dark World. Very loosely based on Shahryar and Scheherazade. There will be song lyrics in each chapter if you don't like it don't read it. M for later chapters. Loki/OFC
1. chapter 1

A/N: Don't own don't sue

Lyrics at the beginning are from 'If I Knew by Bruno Mars

If I Knew

Chapter One

I was a city boy

Right into danger's where I'd always run a boy who had his fun

But I wouldn't've done

All the things that I have done

If I knew one day you'd come

I know it breaks your heart

To picture the only one you wanna love

In someone else's arms

But I wouldn't have done

All the things that I have done

If I knew one day you'd come

Oh, baby, please

Let's leave the past behind us, behind us

So that we can go where love will find us

Yeah, will find us

I know most girls would leave me

But I know that you believe me

Baby, I, I wish we were seventeen

So I could give you all the innocence

That you give to me

No, I wouldn't have done

All the things that I've done

If I knew one day you'd come

"Eira! Eira! Now where is that girl?"

Eira sighed and closed her eyes, praying for patience. She loved her Queen greatly, yet she found her whims unutterably irritating. She hurriedly rose from her bathtub and dragged her discarded gown onto her wet skin. Giving her pleasantly steaming bathtub a quick longing glance, she slipped out of her chambers. She dashed down the sumptuous gilded hallway, rapidly braiding her wet hair as she went. She slid, slightly ungracefully with her wet bare feet, into the Queen's chambers just as her name was called again impatiently. Frigga was a swirl of lace as she paced her receiving chamber fretfully. Her golden-sandaled feet slapped anxiously against the marble floor as she reached one end of the room, whirled, and paced back the way she'd come. Her face was tight with worry and her eyes were darting wildly as her thoughts spun around her head. Eira sighed again.

"My Queen." She dipped into a dutiful curtsey and wondered what the Prince had done now. She didn't need to ask or guess; only her youngest child caused the Queen such blatant anxiety.

"Eira." Frigga spun on the spot, frowning down at her maid's bent head. "You're dripping wet." She pointed out curiously, her worry momentarily forgotten.

Eira rose from her curtsey, watching as a trickle of water ran from the end of her braid and stained her silk dress. She'd already left a small puddle around her feet.

"I was bathing, Your Grace. You released me from my duties for the night." She reminded her politely.

Frigga started, blinking at her with big eyes full of apology. Eira felt her irritation melt away. She had been a Lady in waiting to the Queen for a little under a year, the mere blink of an eye to Asgardians, and yet she was surprisingly fond of her. Frigga was much smarter than people supposed but she was very prone to distraction when something caught the attention of her curious mind. She had clearly forgotten entirely that she had told Eira to retire as she would have no more need of her but in her distress had automatically called for her closest companion.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Your Grace?"

Frigga's face crumpled and she groaned, resuming her frantic pacing.

"My boy. My poor sweet Loki."

Eira raised her eyebrows but wisely kept her mouth closed. She had never met the Prince herself; by the time she had been sent to the court by her father, he was gone, but she had heard much and more of him and his antics. Sweet was not the prevalent term used to describe him.

"Is the Prince to return to court?" She prompted as Frigga continued to pace and whisper to herself.

"He is." Frigga's smile was taut and her eyes shone with emotion as she turned towards her. "A captive." Her lips twisted into a grim smile. "My child."

Eira smiled blandly back at her. Frigga loved her son as a mother should but Loki was a traitor and would be treated as such. How awkward. Frigga's pacing was increasing in speed, her robe whipped around so sharply that a tall delicate spindly table wobbled precariously in its wake.

"Would you like some tea, Your Grace. To calm you?"

Frigga stared at her as if she'd lost her mind but Eira didn't take it to heart. What exactly was the protocol for comforting a mother about to find her favourite son dumped on her doorstep on a leash like a dog?

"No. No tea. Thank you dear. No I must think. I need to speak to the King." Frigga dropped the letter she'd screwed up in her hand and barrelled past Eira. "I must speak to my husband. For Loki. I need to--"

"Your Grace." Eira called after her and Frigga skidded to a halt with her hand on the doorknob. "Perhaps a robe?"

Frigga goggled at her again and then she let out a little nervous laugh.

"Of course, of course. What would I do without you, my little songbird?"

Frigga held still as Eira retrieved her rich fur robe from where it had been discarded at her dressing table and carried it across the room towards her. She obediently lifted one arm at a time and slipped into the flowing robe that modestly covered her lace nightgown.

"Would you like me to accompany you, Your Grace?"

Frigga shook her head distractedly as Eira followed her into the private hallway that linked the Royal chambers. Eiracurtseyed and watched Frigga's departing back as she hurried towards the King's bedchamber, her sandals slapping wildly and her robes billowing.

LOKIEIRALOKIEIRALOKIEIRA

"He was always a sensitive boy, the King dismissed that as weakness and now look what has happened."

Eira made a noise in her throat to indicate she was listening. She wasn't really but it comforted the Queen to have someone to talk to who couldn't care less about the political intrigues at court. Eira was the daughter of a minor noble who lived far from the palace and the court. She knew very well she had been despatched there to find a husband. Instead she had been enjoying herself for the first time in a long time without her stepmother lurking like the spectre at the feast when the Queen had heard her singing (a rather ribald ditty she would not have been singing if she'd known royalty was within earshot) and had immediately offered her a position as her lady in waiting. Surprisingly enough they got along remarkably well. The Queen was quirky in her own way and Eira allowed her to be, she didn't judge her or whisper behind her back and in response Frigga warmed to her immediately. Before long she was the Queen's closest companion and confidant despite the age difference.

"I'm so grateful he's home." Frigga sighed. "Under different circumstances would have been preferable, but still…"

Eira nodded, sensing the Queen was watching her in the huge oval looking glass. Glancing up she did indeed find the royal gaze studying her through the glass and she averted her eyes. She calmly continued braiding Frigga's hair, ignoring the stare. Frigga often claimed that she enjoyed watching her pretty Lady in waiting at work. She liked to be reminded of her youth, especially with her sons gone. Frigga watched her hair taking shape absently, her mind still dancing around her youngest son. What would she ever do with him? He was his own worst enemy. Like a wounded animal if his first skittish attempt at forming a bond was rejected, he lashed out. Eirapinned the last braid into place and took a step back to survey her work. She had a knack for this kind of thing luckily enough. She was sincerely hoping Frigga wouldn't insist on her presence at court but no, the Queen rose to her feet and paused at the door, waiting for Eira to fall into step behind her.

Eira bit back a grumble of irritation and obediently followed three paces behind Frigga as the Royal Guard closed around them. The King had insisted on the guard even though Frigga had been furious at the suggestion that Loki would ever harm her. From what the Queen had told Eira about her pleading for Loki's life, the King was more worried about what Loki might say to his mother than anything else. Eira had heard that argument in all its glory as she had laid out the Queen's gown and jewels for the day.

When they arrived, the Audience Chamber was bustling with activity; the courtiers and nobles scurrying like cockroaches as they gossiped and plotted. Eira couldn't care less. She was perfectly happy with her lot in life; she was treated well and with respect as a favourite of the beloved Queen, she had pretty dresses and good food and well equipped quarters. Best of all her stifling stepmother and father were miles away and had no input in her life anymore. Why in the universe would she jeopardise all of that by interfering with the politics ofbored disgruntled nobles. She followed Frigga into their midst, watching as they bowed and curtsied to the Queen as she passed them.

The huge gilded golden doors to the Throne Room were firmly shut and secured beyond the Chamber and she glanced at Frigga. Her face was a mild mask but her lips were tightand thin as she glanced at the doors. She had clearly been told not to enter while Loki was present to be sentenced. Eira felt a tiny flicker of pity in her chest for the mysterious Prince. From what she had heard, he would have had more of a chance at leniency if his mother had been there to speak for him. She also knew that Loki was something of a showmanwho revelled in an audience enjoying his genius. This could be his last moments and he was alone in there with his father's wrath. It was a sad state of affairs.

Frigga passed from group to group, greeting and acknowledging and playing the perfect much loved Queen, all the while deliberately avoiding the huge golden doors keeping her from her son. Eira drifted away from her step by step, not wanting to hear the false sympathies the nobles were uttering. Not having been here when Loki rebelled, Eira had little to no opinion of him but she heard the whispers that whirled at court. Those that thought he had a point and Prince Thor was rather unstable to have an army that easy at hand, and those that thought he was evil incarnate and should be hung, drawn and quartered. She drifted amongst the crowd idly, catching sight of illicit glances, and murmured plotting. From time to time she did take part in the gossip merely for her own amusement. She was just making her way over to a noble's daughter who was a veritable mountain of gossip in the right mood, when a hand touched her elbow.

"Lady Eira."

Lord Thorunn appeared before her and she smiled. Dropping into a curtsy, she peeked at him from under her long lashes. Lord Thorunn was happily married to a very wealthy heiress with two young hale and hearty sons at court. That did not stop him from watching Queen Frigga's pretty young Lady in waiting with hot eyes for the past few weeks. Eira was well aware of his scrutiny and had toyed lightly with him, sliding her eyes towards him across the banquet hall at feasts, swirling her skirts until they brushed his calves when she danced. It was always fun to tease.

"How fare you?" He asked quietly, half turning his shoulder to cut out the crowd behind them. The crowd that included his wife once more big with child.

"Well, My Lord." Eira replied politely, keeping her eyes demurely on the ground. "I thank you for asking."

A guard edged past them and Lord Thorunn frowned, putting a hand on her elbow and drawing her a few steps towards the back corridor the servants used. Eira let him lead her away from the court, more out of curiosity than any actual desire to be alone with him. Once they were alone in the small hallway, Lord Thorunn shifted from one foot to the other as Eirawaited patiently with her hands folded at her waist and her eyes cast demurely down. The Lord was clearly used to maids falling at his noble feet and was quite taken aback at her goading silence.

"You are very distracting." He said suddenly, his face flushing as he studied her lowered head.

"Thank you, My Lord." She murmured innocently.

She could hear his mouth opening and closing as he fumbled for something to say. She cocked her head slightly, knowing her hair was glimmering prettily in the torchlight before him. He was completely thrown by her blank polite response. He had thought she'd flirt with him; that was what happened at court, flirtation and dalliances that meant nothing. She merely waited in silence, her thick red hair strung with golden strands and half-braided over one shoulder dancing in the torchlight. He was scrabbling to gather his thoughts when the door on the other side of the hallway burst open with a loud crash and he stumbled around.

Eira felt a prickle of unease as the door clattered open behind Lord Thorunn. She leaned slightly to the side to see what was going on over his wide shoulder. Guards were marching past them, silent and menacing in their golden armour and hulking helmets. She heard chains clanking over the faint murmur of voices from the Audience Chamber behind them and she tipped up onto her toes to get a better look, her curiosity getting the better of her. Following the guards was a tall figure, a blur of gold and green. She briefly managed to glimpse a pair of midnight blue eyes, glittering with rage and hate as the traitor Prince was marched past them.

"I didn't think they'd bring him this way." She mused aloud, turning to stare after them.

He had a broad back, impressive shoulders and a slendertapering torso topping long elegant legs. As if he could sense her curious gaze, Loki turned his head slightly without missing a step in time with his gaolers. For the merest fraction of a second, their eyes met. Eira stared back at him unabashed and unafraid, coolly appraising. Loki's lip curled minutely and then he was gone, dragged towards the dungeons to meet his fate.

LOKIEIRALOKIEIRALOKIEIRA

"It's cruel."

Eira paused, chewing slowly and thoughtfully. Tears shone in the Queen's eyes as she pushed her food around her plate, staring out at Asgard sprawled out beneath them. She had known the King's plan to imprison Loki but she had never really believed he would do it. Not to her favourite son who mirrored her in so many ways.

"Loki will suffer more, locked away in a box with his beautiful mind restrained… it is unutterably cruel."

A tear slipped down her cheek but she ignored it, staring out at the horizon without seeing any of it. Eira pushed her plate away from her, reaching tentatively across the table to touch the back of the Queen's hand. She gripped her fingers tightly, the jewelled rings on her slim fingers digging into Eira's hand.

After her brief encounter with Loki, Eira had slipped back into the Audience Chamber without a second glance at Lord Torhunn. She had found the Queen rooted to the spot, as still as a statue. A gaggle of silly Ladies were clucking away at her but her head was cocked towards the golden doors leading into the Throne Room. Eira didn't know how but she was certain the Queen knew her son was being led towards the dungeons, dragged down the servant hallway like a common criminal. The Queen had not wavered again after that tiny flash of emotion. She continued to listen to the idle chatter and pleasantries, to advise ladies seeking favour and smooth any ruffled feathers. As the minutes trickled past, Frigga turned from a mind-numbingly boring conversation about an upcoming wedding and sent Eira a brief pleading glance.

Eira turned at once and signalled a servant standing against the wall. He darted forwards obediently.

"Bring some food to the Queen's chambers, something light."

He bowed slightly and disappeared into the crowd to follow her instructions. Eira cocked her head towards Frigga, the barest hint of a smile flitting across her lips and Frigga nodded. The wait was interminable as the Queen continued in her role, nodding and smiling. Eventually Eira decided enough time had passed and she approached the Queen with a dutiful bow. Frigga gratefully excused herself from the crowd and led Eira back towards the Royal Apartments. The only thing that gave away her emotional state was the increased pace as she stalked the length of the marble hallways, tall and proud, her guards dismissed from their protection duties now Loki was safely under lock and key. Frigga didn't relax until the doors closed behind them and the calm sanctuary of her chambers washed over her. The food had been laid out on the balcony.

"I'm forbidden from visiting." Frigga said suddenly and Eiraflinched.

"I'm sorry, Your Grace." She said sincerely. It was one thing for Loki to be out of her reach but to have him so near and be kept from him. The Queen was right, it was cruel. For both of them.

Frigga turned her head, studying her young Lady in waiting as if she was seeing her for the first time. An idea was forming. She had her own plans to visit her son, by whatever means necessary, but still…

Eira sensed the look the Queen had rested on her and she didn't like it one bit. She knew that look. Her hand was still clutched in the Queen's and she quickly withdrew it. Frigga smiled. This would take some planning but perhaps not too much convincing.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Don't own don't sue

Lyrics at the beginning are from 'If I Knew by Bruno Mars

 **If I Knew**

 **Chapter Two**

I was a city boy

Right into danger's where I'd always run a boy who had his fun

But I wouldn't've done

All the things that I have done

If I knew one day you'd come

I know it breaks your heart

To picture the only one you wanna love

In someone else's arms

But I wouldn't have done

All the things that I have done

If I knew one day you'd come

Oh, baby, please

Let's leave the past behind us, behind us

So that we can go where love will find us

Yeah, will find us

I know most girls would leave me

But I know that you believe me

Baby, I, I wish we were seventeen

So I could give you all the innocence

That you give to me

No, I wouldn't have done

All the things that I've done

If I knew one day you'd come

It had been a month since Loki had been imprisoned. The Queen had not mentioned him again and Eira had not spoken of him at all. Yet he lurked at the back of her thoughts, that blink of wicked blue had played across her mind more than once. It unnerved her. The Queen had decided to take a walk in the gardens this morning she sweetly informed Eira as she pinned her golden hair into place with jewelled pins. Eira shrugged agreeably, why not take a turn in the gardens? There was little else to do at court. The usual bowing and scraping greeted them as they made their brisk way through the palace and out into the grounds.

They strolled in amicable silence amongst the stunning blooms and towering trees, picking their way arm in arm along the little pathways and drifting by the lazy stream where the air was slightly cooler.

"Eira." The Queen said quietly, as they wandered under a huge tree shining with brilliant crimson leaves.

Eira waited, feeling her shoulders tense as the Queen fixed her with that powerful royal gaze.

"I have a kindness to ask of you." She was murmuring so faintly Eira could barely hear her and anyone trying to eavesdrop wouldn't stand a chance.

"Your Grace?" Eira prompted, following the Queen's gaze back towards the palace.

"I am prohibited from seeing my son." Her mouth twisted in a bleak smile. "That is well known. Yet I can't bear to think of him alone, trapped with his thoughts." Frigga shook her head. "I cannot go to him, but you can."

Eira started on the spot, taking an involuntary step back.

"Your Grace I've never even met the Prince--"

Frigga tilted her head slightly, the scarlet leaves casting coloured shadows across her face.

"You need not spend time with him, if you do not wish it." Frigga looked slightly disappointed but she smiled kindly nonetheless. "I would only ask that you deliver him my gifts."

Eira lifted her eyebrows. Everyone knew the Queen could not visit the dungeon but no one had mentioned anything about gifts being forbidden. Now what would a mother give her son, when he was confined to a dungeon for the rest of eternity? Curiosity got the better of her and she found herself nodding. Frigga's face lit up and her eyes twinkled knowingly. Of course they both knew that the Queen could order her to do this as easily as she was requesting it. Yet she seemed pleased that Eira had agreed to do it of her own volition.

LOKIEIRALOKIEIRALOKIEIRA

It was another week before Frigga made Eira keep her promise. The Queen was bathing in her huge golden tub, hot scented steaming water swirling around her collarbones. Eira was singing to her, humming nonsense as she rubbed rose scented lotion into her long golden tresses.

"Little songbird." Frigga said suddenly. "Will you go? Tonight?"

Eira broke off mid-verse, the golden comb in her hand halting halfway through Frigga's locks. She had been looking forward to putting the Queen to bed and retreating to her own with one of the guards, a sweet boy who blushed whenever she so much as looked at him.

"Tonight, Your Grace?"

Frigga gestured at a table sitting beside the door that led back to her bedroom. A thick book was waiting there. Books. Would books be enough to stave off the loneliness that would eventually lead to madness? Frigga swirled the water with her hands idly, watching Eira's reflection in the huge looking glass. The steam had caused her thick red hair to curl damply against her slender neck and pinked cheeks and her silver dress was clinging to her in the muggy heat of the bathroom. She really was stunning. Asgardians aged very very well but Frigga was starting to feel the years weighing on her.

"Go now. I think I can manage to put myself to bed." Her lips tweaked in amusement and Eira couldn't help but smile in return.

Eira slipped her feet out of the tub and pulled on her slippers. The silk stuck to her bare feet unpleasantly but she crossed the room, grabbing the book on her way out. At least she could drop these off and return with more than enough time to make that cute little soldier boy blush again. She made her way rapidly through the palace, still humming with activity even at this late hour. As a favourite of the Queen she was allowed to roam freely and she passed unmolested through the lower levels of the palace until she reached the entrance to the dungeons. Huge mirrored doors barred the locked gates to the dungeon, designed to reflect the only hallway that led to the dungeons so anyone approaching could always see what was creeping up behind them. Eira was furious. From her enlarged reflection she could clearly see her hair was a frazzled mess from the steam, curling wildly in all directions and her face was bright red from the heat in the bathroom and her long trek through the palace. She was no more vain than any other Asgardian but she took a certain pride in her beauty, it was her most useful tool in this palace.

Feeling somewhat less than charitable, she passed through the mirrored doors and ordered the guards to unlock the gates sharply. They eyed her coldly but did as she bid them. Visitors were permitted into the dungeons in theory, with some minor restrictions, but it was a rare occurrence. Clearly her name was not on the list of those forbidden access and they grudgingly allowed her through. The sudden switch from dim hallway to almost complete blackness was startling and Eira blinked rapidly, trying to adjust her eyes. It was chilly down here, the complete absence of all the gold and finery draped around the palace almost shocking. Her steps seemed to echo as she followed the long hallway, her feet in their thin slippers already freezing. There were no guards down here, just glimmering windows of light as she passed each cell. She ignored the occupants as they leered at her, making obscene gestures and in some cases charging at the magic barrier that held them inside their cells.

Eira knew they couldn't break free of the magic restraining them so she dismissed their threats easily, continuing on her path. She finally reached the Prince's cell. He was standing in the centre of his cell, staring directly at her as if he was expecting a visitor. Eira almost lost her footing in her surprise. She stared at him curiously. She had heard many things from the Queen about her youngest son, the good and the bad but, saving the brief glimpse of him in the hallway; she had never seen him for herself. She was almost taken aback at how attractive he was. When he was spoken of around the palace he was described as a skinny runty usurper who plotted because he didn't have the strength of his brother to overpower a kingdom by hand. From what she could see through the magic of the golden barrier, he was tall, broad-shouldered and handsome. Well… this task her Queen had set her may not be the total waste of time she'd first assumed.

Loki saw her smiling and he lifted an imperious eyebrow. She didn't seem afraid of him. In fact she seemed almost bored. She took a step forwards, climbing the small steps to his cell. Loki cocked his head as he watched her. She was about to get a very nasty shock once she touched that barrier. To his surprise, she paused for a split second and then stepped right through the barrier. Jolted out of his apathy he reached out but the barrier remained firmly in place.

"An illusion?" He surmised, flicking a disdainful glance over her. "If this is the best my mother could do--"

Eira felt herself flush from her head to her toes but she just managed to keep her face expressionless.

"Not quite, Prince." She snapped, tossing the book at him with a little more force than was necessary.

Loki grunted as the heavy book slammed into his chest and bounced onto the floor of his cell.

"A gift from your mother."

Loki had been about to snap her insolent neck when her words gave him pause. Eira saw the anger in him halt suddenly, the brilliant blue eyes widen and then narrow thoughtfully.

"My mother?" Something like a smile crept over his face and Eira felt a prickle of unease at the base of her spine. "You speak as if you know her as more than just a Queen."

It was not a question and Eira did not treat it as such, furious with herself for slipping already.

"Did my mother merely send me books as her gift, I wonder." Loki mused, stepping towards her faster than she could blink.

To her credit, she didn't flinch or whimper at his sudden appearance in her personal space. She lifted her chin defiantly and gave him a long challenging stare. It certainly seemed as if she were daring him to do something.

"I hate to disappoint you, Prince, but your mother only sent you the book." She realised too late that she had not referred to Frigga as the Queen again and she smiled to cover the slip. "You'll have to gain your _satisfaction_ from that."

Loki's lips curled into a smirk. Who was this girl? She took a step back, refusing to turn her back on him. His grin only widened. Clever little thing, indeed. She offered him a rather insulting curtsey and slipped back through the barrier. Loki watched her departing back; the wild scarlet hair glimmering in the dim torchlight, the subtle shift of her hips as she strode confidently along in the darkness.

"Well well, Mother. What in the world have you sent me to play with?"

LOKIEIRALOKIEIRALOKIEIRA

Eira emerged from the darkness of the dungeons and took a deep breath. The air down there felt close and stuffy but she hadn't realised until she'd returned to the palace. It was like surfacing from the depths of the ocean. The guards must have changed while she was down there as the one standing guard now looked a lot kinder. He saw her trembling and he took her hand and led her to a gilded chair almost lost behind an elaborate statue. Eira let him lead her, aware he had assumed she was affected by the dark dungeons. She was just a frail Lady after all. Eira ignored him frantically fluttering around her. She was affected, but not by the dungeons. Her heart was fluttering rapidly in her chest and she let out a little laugh. The guard frowned at her worriedly. She gave him a sweet smile and instantly he relaxed. A pretty Lady in waiting smiling at him and thanking him for his aid was the highlight of his week. Eira politely refused his offer to call someone to walk her back to her chambers and thanked him for his assistance as sweetly as she could. A guard besotted with her was always a useful tool.

She mulled over her encounter with Loki as she made her way towards her chambers through the deserted palace halls. She had been surprised to find him so attractive, surprised and curious. She felt odd, as if she had been in the path of a raging stallion and had been whipped from under his murderous hooves, missing death by a whisker. It was too late now to report back to the Queen so she slipped into her chambers. She felt a presence in her bedchamber and she froze. She had completely forgotten about her liaison with her guard.

"Lady Eira." He stammered, dropping to one knee before her.

She smiled, brushing the soft fair curls from his forehead idly.

"There's no need to bow before me."

The inevitable blush sprang up his neck and she laughed softly. She gestured for him to rise and he did so in an awkward tangle of long limbs. In truth she found his innocence attractive and of course, a woman has needs of her own. As she reclined on her bed, watching as the fumbling guard stripped himself of his armour, she forced the mocking Prince's leer from her mind.

The guard was gone before sunrise and Eira stretched lazily in her rumpled sheets. The guard had been as inexperienced as she had expected but he had done well enough. She was just contemplating what gown to wear to the feast tonight when her door flew open and she bolted upright. The Queen bustled in fully dressed, pushing the door closed behind her and stalking straight towards her. Eira tugged the sheets more firmly around her naked body and stared as Frigga perched on the side of her bed.

"Your… Your Grace?" Eira said weakly, unsure what was happening. The Queen had never visited her chambers before.

"My apologies for barging into your bedchamber in such an uncivilised manner." The Queen said rapidly, reaching for Eira's hand resting on the feather mattress before clearly thinking better of it and pulling it back into her lap. "Your visit?"

Eira let out a sigh of relief. She had briefly wondered if the Queen was about to dismiss her for fraternising with the guards.

"I delivered the book, Your Grace." Eira confirmed awkwardly.

"The Prince?" Frigga glanced across at the door, as if she expected the King himself to be standing there. "My son?"

"He seemed… well." Eira said slowly, the image of Loki's smirk flickering briefly into her mind.

Frigga studied her in silence for a long moment, the look in her eyes unfathomable. Then she smiled and nodded.

"I am glad." She rose to her feet, a Queen once more. "I'll allow you to dress, little songbird." She paused with her hand on the doorknob and turned back towards the bed. "Thank you, Eira. There are not many who would risk the wrath of their King to keep a weary mother happy."

Eira couldn't bring herself to reply. She had agreed to visit Loki in Frigga's place to satisfy her own curiosity despite the affection that lay between the two women. It wouldn't be right to accept Frigga's sincerity. She also felt too guilty to meet Frigga's gaze, because she had already decided that she would continue to visit Loki, but it would have nothing to do with the Queen's request.

LOKIEIRALOKIEIRALOKIEIRA

Eira took extra care preparing for the feast that night. She had a new backless dress of emerald velvet that matched her eyes and clashed brilliantly with her hair, piled on top of her head and glittering with gems. Her arms were bare bar a set of matching intricate silver rings on each upper arm. She accompanied the Queen for the first half of the feast, enjoying the food, the gossip and the flirting as servants kept her goblet full of wine. The second half of the feast was dancing and music. As the daughter of a noble family, Eira was a talented dancer and she did not want for partners in her backless gown.

Once the crowd was fully engaged in their feasting and rousting, Eira took the opportunity to slip out of the Grand Ballroom. She had taken the next book from Frigga's personal library earlier and had hidden it in a small nook near the hallway that led to the dungeons. She retrieved it now and headed for the mirrored doors. Her appearance was a much more satisfying sight tonight. Her silver heels added six inches to her height, the velvet of her dress emphasised the curve of her hips and the narrowness of her waist. Most Asgardian Ladies favoured fluttering sleeves and whispy pieces of fabric flapping around but she preferred tight sleeves or none at all. Her bare arms shone in the torchlight as did her naked slender neck. Unlike most of the Ladies she disregarded most jewels and opted for simplicity. She had chosen a slender silver chain so delicate you could only see it glimmer when she moved, that circled her throat and trailed down her bare back, ending in a teardrop shaped jewel. Her hair glittered with every step. Yes she was very pleased with her appearance for this visit.

The guard on duty goggled at her as she breezed past him, her heels clicking as she descended the stone steps.

Loki heard the tapping footsteps of a pair of heels on the stone of the dungeon floor. He was sitting against the barrier leafing idly through the tome his mother had sent him. It was not one of his favourites and it had been doing little to keep him occupied. A flash of red and green confirmed his suspicions and he smirked. It was simple work to throw up an illusion of himself and he retreated to the velvet chair to wait for his visitor.

Once again she stepped straight through the magic barrier without uttering a word or making any gestures that would indicate magic. His mother's work clearly. She looked a good deal more appetizing this time around. The dress was like a second skin rather than the billowing sheets many of the Ladies wore at court, cut dangerously low at the back and emphasising the mesmerising sway of her hips and the graceful arch of her naked back. Her fiery red hair was a tangle of curls and jewels on top of her head, reflecting the harsh lights of the cell and directing attention to her lovely slender neck. Realising that his appreciation of her was carrying through to his illusion, he hurriedly wiped the expression from both of his faces. She placed the new book onto the table, the faint scent of her perfume emanating from her hair as she passed him.

"A feast?" He surmised, using the illusion to speak for him.

She waved a careless hand.

"The usual fare." She shrugged derisively.

"One of the blessings of internal imprisonment. None of those events." Loki's illusion agreed cheerfully.

Loki saw the muscles in her bare back tightening. She was suspicious but she didn't know what of yet. Interesting. His illusion climbed to its feet, taking a rather menacing step towards her. She automatically stepped back. The illusion advanced again, forcing her to move backwards. It only took a few steps before she was right before the real him, sitting patiently in the velvet chair. For a moment he contemplated letting her fall right into his lap, then he dismissed it. Why create an aversion to his proximity so soon.

Eira felt his long elegant fingers wrap around her bare arms, his thumbs just brushing the silver bands. His mocking laughter stirred her hair and caressed the back of her neck. She could feel his body behind her, warm and solid. She froze, staring at him in front of her smiling wickedly with his hands clasped behind his back.

"What--"

She turned her head. There was no hand on her arm, no shadow behind her blocking the blinding glare of the cell wall. She was frightened now, he could smell it. Fear rolled off her in waves and her body trembled against him. Deciding he didn't quite want to break her just yet, the illusion dissipated with a crackle of green light. She started when the illusion vanished, immediately checking her arm again. This time she could see his pale graceful hands resting on her bare skin, not quite tightly enough to hold her in place. Now that his illusion had vanished, her trembling stopped. He leaned his head over her shoulder, his lips barely a millimetre from her ear.

"I didn't mean to scare you, love."

She shifted her head slightly and the diamond she wore in her ear tickled his chin.

"Yes you did, Prince."

Loki was certain she could actually feel his smile against the delicate skin of her throat.

"Of course I did." He chuckled. "Are you still afraid?"

"No." She laughed. "Not now I understand."

She seemed to be telling the truth and yet her heart was thumping rapidly.

"What a fascinating trick to have up your sleeve. The possibilities for its uses are… endless." She breathed in a soft laughing voice, tilting her face even closer towards his.

Oh she was full of surprises. Where in the universe had his mother found this wily little creature? Loki reluctantly relinquished his grip on her arms and stepped away from her. She waited for a long moment, just long enough to prove that his proximity didn't scare her, and then she moved back towards the barrier.

"Leaving so soon?"

She barely bothered to glance over her shoulder at him and he felt a flicker of irritation in his chest. He hated being ignored.

"Sorry, Prince. My dance card is full, I can't keep the Lords waiting now, can I?"


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Don't own don't sue

Lyrics at the beginning are from 'If I Knew by Bruno Mars

Lyrics in the middle are from 'A Case of You' by Joni Mitchell

 **If I Knew**

 **Chapter Three**

I was a city boy  
Right into danger's where I'd always run a boy who had his fun  
But I wouldn't've done  
All the things that I have done  
If I knew one day you'd come  
I know it breaks your heart  
To picture the only one you wanna love  
In someone else's arms  
But I wouldn't have done  
All the things that I have done  
If I knew one day you'd come  
Oh, baby, please  
Let's leave the past behind us, behind us  
So that we can go where love will find us  
Yeah, will find us  
I know most girls would leave me  
But I know that you believe me  
Baby, I, I wish we were seventeen  
So I could give you all the innocence  
That you give to me  
No, I wouldn't have done  
All the things that I've done  
If I knew one day you'd come

Eira waited over week before she returned to see the Prince again. She was schooled in the game of court enough to know that men, even princes, lost interest unless you allowed them time to muse about you. Being locked in a cell surely gave him more than enough time to think about whatever played on his mind when he wasn't plotting. After taking their supper one evening, Eira and the Queen had gone riding in the gardens in the pleasant mid-afternoon air. Eira was a very skilled rider as her father's lands were mainly open grounds. If the Queen had one of her adventurous moods, they would ride out at a gallop and let the wind whip their hair into veritable bird nests as they raced at a breakneck speed that would have given Frigga's royal guards a heart attack. Today, however, the Queen preferred to ride at a leisurely pace and only in the gardens where they could be seen from the palace at all times.

"Eira."

Eira had been daydreaming slightly and she flushed at being caught out when the Queen lightly touched her arm.

"Apologies, Your Grace."

Frigga waved a hand, dismissing her apology as unnecessary. She slid her eyes sideways to look at the young girl riding beside her. Eira rode as elegantly as she danced; her back straight in the saddle and her head held high. She almost looked like a Princess and Frigga wondered briefly how different her life might have been had she borne a daughter.

"How are the visits with my son?"

Eira fidgeted a little in the saddle, wondering what to say. She didn't want Frigga to think she had forgotten her promise but there was every chance that the Queen already knew she hadn't been to the dungeons for a week. Frigga was well loved and no doubt had spies of her own at court. Eira couldn't very well inform the Queen that she was taking her time between visits to tease her son.

"Well, Your Grace."

The thick crimson, green and gold trees surrounding them complimented her colouring and emphasised the bloom of her youth. Frigga watched her profile carefully, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"He is not falling into the darkness?" Frigga said carefully, even now glancing around the gardens as if they were likely to be being watched.

"I don't believe so, Your Grace." Eira flushed slightly at the memory of their last encounter; his mocking smile against her ear and his body warm against her back.

"Good." Frigga was making no attempt to hide her smile now. "I knew I could trust you to keep up with his clever mind."

Eira wasn't sure if that was a compliment or not so she simply smiled and bowed her head as they circled around for another turn of the gardens.

As the sun started to set and the air started to nip sharply, they turned back to the palace and Eira helped Frigga change out of her riding dress and into a simple gown. The King and Queen spent the last hour of the day together every night. Even if they didn't speak, if Frigga simply read while Odin pored over his papers and maps and battle reports, they spent that hour together without fail. It was sweet, and it gave Eira a much needed extra hour to herself each night. As Frigga slipped into the private hallway that linked her chambers to the King's, Eira grabbed the books from the usual table sitting inconspicuously by the bathroom door and headed for the dungeons.

The guard behind the wonderful mirrored doors was her acquaintance from her first visit. He blushed when she approached him, ducking his head in a minor bow. She smiled at him and decided to keep Loki waiting a little longer. She chatted sweetly with the guard, fluttering her lashes and touching his chest armour as she laughed. Flirting was always such fun.

Eventually she continued on her way, the books clasped under her arm.

LOKIEIRALOKIEIRALOKIEIRA

As always Loki heard her from the second she entered the gates. He heard her flirtation with the idiotic guard who could barely hold his sword the correct way round. He would almost have experienced a tiny flame of jealousy, if he had felt the guard could compare to him in any way. He watched her as she entered. She looked as if she'd been riding in the palace grounds. Her russet-red gown was cinched in tight at her waist emphasising the swell of her chest and her long slender arms, and flared out to her ankles. The skirt was cut into panels to give freedom of movement and beneath it, he could see endless willowy legs encased in buff breeches and soft brown leather boots tied behind her knees. Her molten hair was braided down her back until it touched her waist. There was a smudge of dust on her cheekbone that was somehow endearing.

"I believe I heard the guard refer to you as 'songbird'." Loki observed idly, leaning one shoulder against the wall of his cell as she moved across to the table to deposit the new books.

Eira glanced over her shoulder at him warily, wondering what angle he was playing at now. She felt they were at a sort of impasse, neither willing to attack or back down. She didn't believe he would hurt her, given the affection his mother felt for her, yet she was wary. As one rightly should be when locked in a room with a tiger. She knew the guard he meant, the one who had helped her the first time she'd visited. He was somewhat enraptured with her. She shouldn't have stayed and flirted with him.

"The Queen enjoys my singing." She shrugged, exchanging the pile of books he had finished for the new selection Frigga had sent.

"Enough to give you the epithet 'songbird'. You must have the voice of an angel."

He was mocking her. She knew he was pushing her for a reaction so she clamped down on her annoyance and kept her face a careful mask of disdain. Realising she wouldn't rise, he changed tactics.

"And what does my Lady Mother request you sing for her in this voice of the ages?" He enquired, every word dripping with derision as he sauntered across the cell towards the books she had carefully stacked on his lonely table.

Eira remained exactly where she was; knowing he had deliberately chosen to stand a mere inch away from her while he teased to gauge her reaction. He flipped open the gilded cover of the first book in the pile, tracing one long elegant finger idly across the printed page. Eira fought not to shiver, for a brief moment she had almost felt that finger trailing down her spine with the same deliberate barely there nonchalance. He hadn't deigned to look at her while he pricked at her pride and that needled her far more than his words. So she told him the secret she kept with the Queen, before she had actually considered the consequences.

"Midgardian songs." She murmured breezily, examining the silver sheen painted on her long nails.

Loki's fingers froze on the page before him and he half turned towards her. His wicked blue eyes were narrowed. He was close enough to her that she could see the arch of his cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass with and the surprisingly elegant curve of his ear. She had surprised him. For a moment he swung wildly between fury, that she had managed to knock him off guard, and curiosity at this side of his mother that even he had never seen before. She was determinedly studying her nails, those long thick lashes hiding her emerald cat eyes from him.

"Curious." His voice was low and dangerous and Eira felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

"Can you really blame her? Asgardian singing is all the same song, harping away for hours at a time. Even women singing those songs sound as though they're eunuchs." Eira burst out, her pride at her unusual voice winning out over her caution.

Loki made a mental note to use that against her later.

"And where, pray tell little songbird, do you find these Midgardian songs?"

Eira bit her lip and turned her face back to the cell floor. She should not have said that. Until now she had managed to keep her identity private from him, something every inch of her brain had convinced her was in her best interests.

"My father. He has ties with Midgard." She told him sullenly. "One of the dishes our land specialises in is created using our spices and a certain fish only found on Midgard. My father supplies it to Asgard."

"Indeed. A fisherman's daughter." Loki observed mockingly.

Eira clenched her hand into a fist to stop her from punching Loki in his smug face. From what she had told him he'd know exactly who her father was and he knew very well that her father was not merely a fisherman. He turned with slow exaggerated care, strode across the cell and seated himself in the plush chair. He placed his fingers together and propped his booted feet up on the stool.

"Very well, songbird. Sing me a ditty."

Eira almost flinched at his use of the moniker given to her out of affection by Frigga but she managed to catch it before she gave Loki something else to use against her.

"No." She said calmly and sweetly with a half mocking smile.

Loki felt his anger, always simmering below the surface, rising at her refusal to do as she was ordered but he knew striking her would not be the best way to deal with this one. This called for a touch more subtlety.

"A shame." Loki waved his fingers in a dismissive gesture. "If you have such little faith in your talent. So be it. You're dismissed."

He saw her fists clenching out of the corner of his eye and he knew she wanted to strike him something awful. Yet she was schooled enough to control her face and that did make the game more interesting. As he had suspected it would, his taunt struck her where she was most sensitive and she rolled one shoulder in a careless shrug. But opened her mouth nonetheless.

"Oh, I am a lonely painter  
I live in a box of paints  
I'm frightened by the devil  
And I'm drawn to those ones that ain't afraid  
I remember that time you told me  
You said, "Love is touching souls"  
Surely you touched mine  
'Cause part of you pours out of me  
In these lines from time to time  
Oh, you're in my blood like holy wine  
You taste so bitter and so sweet  
Oh, I could drink a case of you, darling  
And still I'd be on my feet  
I would still be on my feet  
I met a woman  
She had a mouth like yours  
She knew your life  
She knew your devils and your deeds  
And she said, "Go to him, stay with him if you can  
But be prepared to bleed"  
Oh, you're in my blood like holy wine  
You taste so bitter and so sweet  
Oh, I could drink a case of you, darling  
And still I'd be on my feet  
I would still be on my feet."

Loki blinked at her. She was well within her rights to be proud. She had a glorious voice; gently enticing with a sexily beckoning undertone. It filled the stark bare cell and rose the tiny hairs along his arms. And she was correct; compared to the high keening tones of Asgardian music, her voice was wonderfully deep and unusual. He had never heard anything like it. He kept his face determinedly blank as she sang the short verse, staring at his cell wall. Her voice seemed to continue echoing around the small cell even after she had finished singing.

"One of your mother's favourites." She said quietly when he remained silent, turning her face away from him sitting as still as a statue in the velvet chair.

She felt as if she'd stripped naked before him and he had simply walked away. The air was heavy in the cell, thick and viscous as if the song had been oil poured between them. Loki couldn't bring himself to criticise her performance but he wouldn't praise her either. That would give too much power away.

"No comment?" Eira goaded him, her eyes a faint green glitter from under her lashes. "Even the Queen is not rendered speechless when I sing."

Loki snorted, the tension dissipating.

"I was merely contemplating the lyrics."

Eira smiled prettily at him, lifting her eyebrows.

"Of course."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Don't own don't sue

Lyrics at the beginning are from 'If I Knew by Bruno Mars

 **If I Knew**

 **Chapter Four**

I was a city boy  
Right into danger's where I'd always run a boy who had his fun  
But I wouldn't've done  
All the things that I have done  
If I knew one day you'd come  
I know it breaks your heart  
To picture the only one you wanna love  
In someone else's arms  
But I wouldn't have done  
All the things that I have done  
If I knew one day you'd come  
Oh, baby, please  
Let's leave the past behind us, behind us  
So that we can go where love will find us  
Yeah, will find us  
I know most girls would leave me  
But I know that you believe me  
Baby, I, I wish we were seventeen  
So I could give you all the innocence  
That you give to me  
No, I wouldn't have done  
All the things that I've done  
If I knew one day you'd come

The Queen had taken to her chambers, claiming she had an utterly debilitating migraine that caused her hideous pain unless she lay in her darkened room in perfect silence. Eira had felt a little suspicious as the Queen waved her out of her room quite happily, but was too tempted by an entire free day to herself to question it. The day was scorching, heat rising from the ground in waves and causing the glare from the shining buildings to reflect brilliantly until the whole kingdom seemed to glow. It was too hot for the horses to ride and she couldn't concentrate on any of her books or her letters home so Eira took to wandering the palace in utter boredom.

Eventually she ran into a few of the other Ladies of the court on their way out to the royal docks to indulge in the heat. Eira allowed herself to be dragged along with them, listening to the court gossip and predicting who would marry next. It was almost comforting to be pulled into their sphere of banality, where the biggest worry was who to flirt with that day or what entertainment was expected.

When they reached the docks, most of the younger members of court were splashing around in the shallows or drifting languidly around on the sleek elegant docked ships. Eira wandered away from the ships and across to where the water was a little deeper. She unlaced her sandals and stripped out of her silk dress, feeling the burning heat prickle across her bare skin. She had not been expecting to swim today so she left her thin linen shift on to preserve her dignity. She stared out at the water below her, rippling lazily and glittering in the sunlight. It was surprisingly peaceful out here, if you ignored the odd ship that roared overhead intermittently.

Taking a deep breath, Eira arched her body and dove into the cool water. She could hold her breath for a remarkably long time, and she swam as deep as she could before her lungs started to ache. It was blissfully cool and silent under the water. Faintly in the distance she could see the rest of the court splashing and bouncing in the water. The shadow of a ship crossed over her and she glanced up, wondering where it was travelling to as she watched the hull flying overhead through the clear filter of the water above her head.

Something brushed her bare leg and she let out a wordless shriek, gulping a lungful of water in her panic. She shot back up to the surface, breaking through and gasping frantically. Whirling she found the guard she had recently befriended grinning sheepishly at her. Deciding not to scratch his eyes out, even though she sorely wanted to, Eira forced a smile.

"I'm sorry, my Lady." He stammered. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Unlike Loki, she believed him. Her smile was real this time.

"I believe I can forgive you." She managed to get out, her throat slightly hoarse from the choking.

"You're not joining the rest of the court?" He gestured towards the distant joyful shrieking.

Eira gave a non-committal shrug.

"Are you not on duty?" She asked him, knowing full well he would be severely punished for abandoning the dungeons if he should be on duty. He would hardly risk that for a few moments in the water with her.

"It's my free day." He explained eagerly.

Eira nodded. It had been over a week since Loki had asked her to sing for him. She had been wary of returning after the previous humiliation so had not noticed whether her guard had been on duty or not. As if he could read her mind, the guard cocked his blond head and regarded her curiously.

"Do you not visit the Prince today?"

Eira narrowed her eyes at him thoughtfully. His station was at the gates and he would not venture into the dungeons even if there was trouble. There were other guards for that.

"Why would you believe I visit the Prince?"

The guard looked slightly shocked, as if he had not expected her to deny it. He really was too naïve for court, it was almost endearing.

"The only others imprisoned are a drunk thief and a rapist." He said quietly. "I would only expect a Lady like yourself to visit a Prince, given the alternatives."

"Very wise. I can't argue with your logic."

The guard frowned slightly, he knew she hadn't answered his question but he couldn't ask again without being rude.

"Does he have many visitors?" She asked idly, the water lapping around them as they pushed their arms in steady circles to stay above the waterline.

"No, my Lady." He answered quickly, his eyes huge with honesty. "Only you."

Eira just managed to keep her smile to herself. She was pleased that he did not have a whole array of doe-eyed serving girls trawling in and out of his cell.

"He's handsome." The guard observed, once again reading her mind. Maybe he was more astute than she had given him credit for.

"He's a traitor." Eira replied automatically.

"Yet you visit him." The guard blurted, flushing at his own daring when she shot him an amused glance.

Eira didn't reply. If she told him she'd been asked by the Queen to visit her son, it would no doubt get back to the King one way or another and he would put a stop to her visits. And she wasn't quite ready for that yet.

* * *

His mother's illusion had long since left him, feeling irritable and unsatisfied. He had been startled to find her suddenly in his cell and for a moment had genuinely worried for his sanity. Until he had put the pieces together and understood. He loved his mother, whatever he may say to her in his seemingly endless rage, and as glad as he was to see her and be assured that she still loved him, she was not the figure he had been waiting for. He could not toy with her in a way that would ease the darkness in his soul.

Out of sheer boredom, one could only entertain oneself with ones thoughts for so long, Loki leapt from his bed and prowled across the cell. There was one book left on his table that he had yet to read. Picking it up, he squinted at the gold embossed words shimmering on the dark grey leather bound cover. It looked like a Midgardian book. Curious indeed. Why would his mother send him a book from Midgard? He flipped the cover open. For a split second words in his mother's hand glittered, directing him to something midway through the book before they vanished. Damn her if she didn't know exactly how to capture his attention.

The court retreated to the dining halls for supper as the sun started to fade. Not feeling hungry in this stifling heat, Eira took the opportunity to slip away to the dungeons. She checked in on the Queen before she left. Finding the room still darkened and Frigga's golden head on the pillow, she grabbed the latest pile of books and closed the door silently behind her.

He was deeply engrossed in the book when Eira stepped through the barrier. He was aware of her from the moment she had set foot into the dungeon but he didn't register her appearance by so much as the flicker of an eyelash.

"Good evening, Prince." She chirped cheerfully once she noticed how distracted he was.

Loki ignored her attempt to irritate him, calmly closing the book and looking at her thoughtfully.

"Sit, nightingale."

She rolled her eyes. He would insist on trying to order her around.

"Please." He added sweetly, the very word loaded with so much disdain that it completely ruined the idea of any genuine entreaty from him.

She sighed, somehow managing to take an inordinate amount of time to cross the tiny cell and take a seat in the plush velvet chair, carefully arranging her peacock blue gown so it draped becomingly from her knees. Loki would have been furious at her insolence, if he hadn't found it so amusing. He lifted his eyebrows when she finally turned towards him with fake obedience written all over her pretty face. She gestured grandly for him to continue. He let the disrespect pass and handed her the book.

"'1001 Arabian Nights'?" Eira observed.

A wave of his finger opened the book at the correct page.

"'The Tale of Shahryar and Scheherazade'." Eira read out slowly, brushing her fingertip over the elaborate script. "This is a book from Midgard."

Loki didn't deign to bless her with a response as the words were clearly not Asgardian.

"My mother advised me to read that one in particular."

He indicated for her to read, leaning back against the wall of the cell to watch her. As she got further into the tale, she forgot to keep her guard up. Her posture relaxed into the curve of the chair, her clever green eyes darting across the page. He found he enjoyed watching her when she was unaware of his scrutiny. During his long years he had come to realise that everyone had a mask and it was only when they believed themselves alone that they peeled it away to reveal their real selves. Eira's face was rapt as she devoured the strange tale, her eyebrows lifting and dropping and her plump mouth twisting. Loki briefly remembered nights long long ago, when his mother would read aloud to him; history books and fantasy tales, scientific tomes and stories about the stars. He would sit and watch her, the expressions on her face telling more of the stories than her words ever could.

Eira closed the book when she reached the end of the tale, looking across at Loki curiously.

"Fascinating."

An idea had been purring in Loki's mind since the moment he had read that tale. No doubt his mother's intention when she had pointed it out to him. A smile crept over his face and Eira shifted in the chair feeling not unlike a rabbit would when a wolf grinned at it in a very similar fashion.

"Let's play a little game, love."

The murmured endearment only made her more positive that she would not like whatever he was about to say. As if he could read her mind, his wolfish grin widened and his eyes glittered.

"I'm listening." She offered cautiously.

Loki was before her in a flash, vanishing from his spot against the wall and appearing over her. He had a hand on each arm of the chair, caging her in. She shivered slightly but she tilted her chin and stared up at him challengingly. He studied her carefully; the noble shape of her face, the curve of her nose slightly upturned at the end, her plump red mouth pursed in an attempt to hide her nervousness and those huge defiant eyes. She may have been scared, concerned by his dangerous manner and how close he was looming, but her wide cat eyes, a brilliant shade of green more vivid than any emerald, were fixed unwaveringly on his.

"You're going to be my Scheherazade." He said thoughtfully, cocking his head to the side as he watched the flush creep up her cheeks.

"Excuse me?"

She hadn't thought it possible for his grin to get any wider but somehow it did; a row of perfect pearly white teeth so close she could almost see her reflection in them.

"You're going to sing for me, nightingale." He was so near to her she could smell the spicy scent of him; woodsmoke and lemon, magic and danger. "A song, rather than a tale, each night."

"For… for a thousand and one nights?" Eira laughed in disbelief.

"Of course, nightingale. That's how the story goes, isn't it?"

Eira stopped laughing as she realised he was serious, frowning up at him in confusion. He saw the pucker appear between her eyebrows, her eyes searching his curiously as she tried to understand what he would gain from this game.

"A thousand and one songs, a song each night." A smile tugged at her lips, perfectly positioned beneath his own. "And then?" She leaned towards him abruptly and Loki gripped the arms of the chair so tightly the wood creaked beneath his fingers. "Will Shahryar learn to love Scheherazade after one thousand and one songs? One thousand and one moments shared?" She breathed against his ear, her nose brushing against his soft hair.

"Looking into the future has unfortunately never been one of my many considerable talents." Loki murmured, rather enjoying the scent of her beautiful hair exuding warmth against his cheek. She smelt like the outside world; salt and sun and freedom.

"I don't quite see where this is worth my time?" Eira pointed out, drawing back slightly so she could see his face again. Loki's head slipped to the side thoughtfully. He hadn't actually thought about that. "I'm not sure I enjoy your presence enough to commit myself for one thousand and one nights."

Loki ignored the insult; he could tell by the way her pupils dilated when he stepped closer to her that she was attracted to him. Or she was afraid of him. Either option was inherently appealing to him given the lack of any other entertainment for the rest of eternity.

"Very well. What would you like?"

Eira blinked rapidly in surprise and Loki grinned smugly. He had surprised her and for reasons unknown that gave him a little thrill of pleasure beneath his belly. She narrowed her eyes at him and put a firm hand on his chest.

"Step back." She ordered. "I can't think with you leaning over me like that."

Loki lifted his eyebrows in amusement but obediently removed his hands, held them up submissively and seemed to disappear. He reappeared on the opposite side of the cell, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest, legs crossed at the ankles and a smirk all over his face. Eira tried to ignore him, wracking her brain for what she could ask of him that he would ever be able to give her. Admittedly he was currently incarcerated but something told her that wouldn't last forever whatever his sentence may be. What does one ask for from a God?

Loki watched her thinking carefully and the longer she took to decide, the more respect he gained for her. There are some who would have demanded power within an instant, some who would have asked for him for the honour of being able to claim they had lain with a God and possibly gotten with child. Foolish wishes. She was thinking beyond that, pondering the different threads of the future and how each possibility could play out best to her advantage. Clever little songbird. He saw her settle on her choice, watched the brooding clear from her eyes and the slight quirk of her lips.

"Do tell, nightingale."

She gave him a sharp look. He had taken to that dratted nickname and would not refer to her by anything else. She didn't even think he knew her real name, he'd never asked for it.

"A song… for an answer." She propped her elbow on the arm of the chair, cupped her chin in her hand and stared at him expectantly.

"Clarify." Loki ordered, giving himself time to think of a way out of this corner he realised he'd gotten himself into.

"Simple. I sing a song for you, in return I ask you a question. Anything I want. You answer. Honestly." She added quickly. "An answer for a song. One thousand and one."

Loki's smile had vanished. What a crafty little witch. He had expected her to ask for favours, or for him to teach her some of his tricks. The usual fare. He had worded his offer too vaguely and she had slipped right through. He had underestimated her greatly. Knowledge was far more powerful than any magic tricks, especially in the hands of one clever enough to use it.

"Do we have an agreement, Prince?" She asked him in a perfectly polite tone that was laced with challenge, arching an eyebrow at him.

Loki gave her one of his lunatic grins and her smugness flickered momentarily. She had backed him into a corner he had not expected; he could not now refuse to accept her terms when he himself had offered her anything she wanted. Well if she wanted to see inside the deepest recesses of his mind, so be it. He could guarantee she wouldn't like what she found there.

"Very well, love." He said gently, meeting her gaze. She suddenly didn't seem so sure of herself anymore. "A song, for an answer."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Don't own don't sue

Lyrics at the beginning are from 'If I Knew' by Bruno Mars

Lyrics in the middle are from 'Killing Me Softly' by The Fugees and 'Lips Are Moving' by Meghan Trainor

 **If I Knew**

 **Chapter Five**

I was a city boy  
Right into danger's where I'd always run a boy who had his fun  
But I wouldn't've done  
All the things that I have done  
If I knew one day you'd come  
I know it breaks your heart  
To picture the only one you wanna love  
In someone else's arms  
But I wouldn't have done  
All the things that I have done  
If I knew one day you'd come  
Oh, baby, please  
Let's leave the past behind us, behind us  
So that we can go where love will find us  
Yeah, will find us  
I know most girls would leave me  
But I know that you believe me  
Baby, I, I wish we were seventeen  
So I could give you all the innocence  
That you give to me  
No, I wouldn't have done  
All the things that I've done  
If I knew one day you'd come

Eira had been unable to get away for long enough to see the Prince for three days. The King seemed to be somewhat suspicious of how easily his wife had accepted their son's fate and he commanded her presence at all hours as if he hoped to catch her out. If Frigga found this insulting or constricting, she didn't show it as she ate beside her husband's throne at the feasts, danced with her oldest son before the court and chatted to the ladies of the court with a smile. Eira, however, was getting more and more irritable at the delay. She wanted to see Loki, she wanted to begin their bargain.

They were at another interminable feast, thrown to celebrate Thor's triumph over another invasion in the outer reaches. Eira had danced and feasted with the rest of the court. Frigga was laughing with her husband, waving for a page to bring more wine. In the briefest moment when her face was turned towards the page hovering behind them, Frigga sought out Eira and somehow managed to convey with the slightest twist of her mouth and flicker of her eyes exactly what Eira wanted to hear.

Eira excused herself from the gaggle of Ladies enthusing about Prince Thor and slipped out of the banquet hall. The books had been hidden a day ago in the dungeon hallway when she'd managed to escape for a few moments on the pretext of fetching something from the kitchens for Frigga. She grabbed the books and breezed past the guards eyeing her curiously. She knew she could never sneak up on Loki, but it was interesting to see that he no longer attempted to trick her when she arrived. He was sprawled on his bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it held all the answers in the universe.

"Good evening, nightingale." He murmured as soon as she stepped through the barrier.

"Prince." She curtseyed politely.

She saw him studying her as she switched the books for him, examining the burnt umber silk dress that emphasised her figure and turned her hair a dark burgundy. He looked slightly pale, there were dark circles under his eyes and his mouth looked slightly pinched. Maybe his confinement was finally affecting him. She felt a flicker of sympathy and decided not to make the mocking comment she had lined up for him. He gestured grandly towards the chair without bothering to observe the niceties and at least sit up. She regretted not making her comment. She crossed the cell, grabbed the chair and rotated it until it faced the bed. He lifted an eyebrow.

"Well, Prince?" She asked as she settled into the chair, holding her back straight and arching her neck elegantly. "Would you like your song first, or my question?"

He narrowed his eyes, the faintest hint of a smirk twitching his lips. The way she had worded her question was not lost on him and it amused him to no end. He shrugged one shoulder and she mimicked him sweetly, before turning her face away towards the brightly lit cell wall thoughtfully.

"I heard he sang a good song, I heard he had a style  
And so I came to see him and listen for a while  
And there he was this young boy, a stranger to my eyes  
Strumming my pain with his fingers  
Singing my life with his words  
Killing me softly with his song, killing me softly with his song  
Telling my whole life with his words  
Killing me softly with his song  
I felt all flushed with fever, embarrassed by the crowd  
I felt he found my letters and read each one out loud  
I prayed that he would finish, but he just kept right on  
Strumming my pain with his fingers  
Singing my life with his words  
Killing me softly with his song, killing me softly with his song  
Telling my whole life with his words  
Killing me softly with his song."

Loki listened in silence, mulling over the lyrics and the gentle seductive intonation of the rhythm. He quite liked it. He heaved an irritable sigh and pushed himself into a sitting position on the bed.

"Very well." He waved his fingers imperiously. "I'm listening."

Eira ignored the prompt, pondering which question to ask him first. There were a hundred and one things she wanted to ask him, but the only way to get his attention was to avoid being predictable. So she'd save the more interesting questions for later.

"You're supposed to be a dangerous murderer. Do you want to kill me?" She asked him curiously.

He blinked at her in surprise, and then a leer slowly crept across his mouth and his blue eyes started to twinkle. She had caught him off guard and that almost impressed him.

"Not at the moment." He said simply, lacing his fingers together and placing them behind his head.

"Not at the moment." She repeated thoughtfully. "Why not?"

"Now now, nightingale." He tsked playfully, the mocking grin on his face making her want to punch him right in his shiny white teeth. "One question per song. However, I'm feeling magnanimous tonight… and you do look stunning in that dress." He saw the flush colouring her cheeks as she blinked at him in confusion. "You're intriguing to me." He shrugged as if he told her she was beautiful and interesting every day. "While you continue to interest me, why would I wish to harm you?"

Eira didn't know what to say. He seemed to be telling the truth at least, but there was something else behind his words. He seemed almost disappointed that she believed what was said about him. She felt confused. She had no reason not to believe he was a cold blood psychopath; he had killed many people after all, but when he gave her that cold defensive look there was something in his eyes…

She felt guilty for asking him such a question, for reminding him what the rest of the world thought of him. She turned away from him and glimpsed a book half hidden under the silken cover of the bedspread. She reached forwards and pulled the book free. It was a book of old Asgardian legends. She flipped through some of the pages. It was the kind of book all noble children of the court had probably read at some point. She wondered why the Queen would send him this book. Then she realised that a Queen hadn't sent this book, a mother had. She put the book back on the bed.

"Prince?"

Loki had been watching her as she studied the book and he fought to keep his face from showing his displeasure as she continued to call him that. He was a Prince no longer.

"The King and Queen are dining privately tomorrow." His face darkened at the mention of his father but he allowed her to continue without interruption. "Would you dine with me?"

Loki cocked his head to the side and studied her. Her cheeks were distinctly pink but her chin was jutting out defiantly and her eyes were clear and challenging on his. She seemed to mean it. She also seemed to be nervous of his answer and he wondered if she was nervous he'd refuse, or more nervous that he'd accept. Curious indeed.

"Well I will have to consult my schedule." He drawled carelessly, enjoying the way her face flushed bright pink with indignation. "I think I can find a way to accommodate you."

She glared at him, but managed to keep her temper under control. Just.

* * *

Eira had been on edge all day and Frigga had not failed to notice. She was distracted when they lunched together and barely manged a response whenever Frigga spoke. In her own way Frigga loved Eira and she worried about her sometimes. This was one of those times. As they sat in the gardens, Frigga reading and Eira pretending to read as she stared at the same page for over an hour, Frigga touched her shoulder. Frigga managed to get the story from a sullen Eira and fought hard to keep her delight from her face. Much like her son, she loved a good intrigue.

"It's not going to happen." Eira sulked, slamming her book closed and tossing it to the side. "I didn't think it through."

Frigga cocked her head questioningly.

"I can't get any food sent to the dungeons." She grumbled, for once resenting that she didn't have more power. If she tried to have food sent down in Frigga's name, the King would hear of it in a heartbeat and everything would come crashing down.

Frigga smiled, leaning forwards to brush Eira's hair from her face.

"You leave that to me." She whispered conspiratorially, winking at the suspicious look on Eira's face.

Now that the stress of pulling this off had lifted, Eira felt excitement start to churn in her belly. She had no idea what had prompted her to suggest this and she had no idea how it was going to play out. Her mind wandered as she helped Frigga dress for her dinner with the King, braiding her hair with nimble fingers.

"I have something for you." Frigga murmured.

Eira glanced at her through the looking glass and saw Frigga's eyes sparkling. She followed Frigga's gaze and found a gown laid out on her bed. Frigga urged her to try it on and Eira reluctantly obeyed. It was bright pink silk, floor length and one-shouldered. It was heavy with jewels encrusting the one sleeve. It was hideous.

"Oh I couldn't, Your Grace." Eira protested, staring at her reflection in the huge looking glass in the Queen's dressing room.

"Of course you can." Frigga replied airily, indicating for her to sit before her dressing table.

Eira was still protesting as Frigga got started on her hair. Eira watched her hair take shape into one of Frigga's favourite hairstyles. It looked impressive on Frigga, it looked ridiculous on Eira. The happy chattering of the Queen and her guilt at feeling ungrateful kept her from commenting. She could feel the weight of the dress as she made her way to the dungeon and she avoided looking at her reflection in the huge mirrored doors. This was not the impression she had wanted to make and the thought made her unreasonably irritable. Logically she knew her appearance would matter very little, however she felt stronger when she looked her best. It did not help that he always looked so attractive.

Loki heard her approach, heard the slight stomp of her feet as if she was angry. He surveyed the food laid out on the floor of his cell. At first he had contemplated taking the chair and making her sit on the ground but he did not think she would do as he said nor stay for dinner if he tried to command her to do so. He would not put it past her to dump the food over his head and storm away, and that would take all the fun out of the evening and leave him with his own thoughts again.

Loki opened his mouth to greet her as she stepped through the barrier, his face freezing when he saw her standing before him. Her face was flushed and she looked utterly furious. He couldn't help it, he laughed.

"Don't." She snapped, holding up her hand. "I look horrendous."

Loki managed to get a grip on himself and studied her from head to toe.

"You look like my grandmother on a bad day." He sniggered, eyeing the pink mess that completely hid her figure beyond the baring of one elegant shoulder.

"Shut up." She grumbled, turning back to the screen behind her.

For a moment, Loki thought she was leaving but she was using the faint reflection from the screen to pull the pins from her hair. Her hair uncoiled and she thrust her fingers into it, releasing the braids until it tumbled around her shoulders. Loki caught a brief scent of jasmine.

"I can't do anything about this monstrosity, I'm afraid." She held the skirt of the dress away from her, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

"She always wanted a daughter." Loki murmured, eyeing the way her hair seemed to glitter even in the ugly light of his cell.

"Well I hope if she ever has one, the child has more dress sense." She mumbled, finally willing to see the humour in the situation.

"Perhaps it is a blessing in disguise." Loki said smoothly, tilting his head. "If you had worn another backless dress, I'm not certain I would remember to be chivalrous."

She rolled her eyes, although he was pleased to see that her cheeks were slightly pink at the compliment.

"Hadn't you heard, Prince? Chivalry is dead." She said shortly, suddenly seeing the spread laid out before them.

Loki was somewhat amused to find himself almost anxious that she would be offended at having to sit on the floor. If she was she didn't comment, gathering the skirts in her fist and dropping slightly inelegantly to the floor with her back to the screen. Loki sat beside her. They fell into silence as they ate, avoiding the usual nonsense pleasantries they were required to indulge in at formal feasts. Eira had never thought she would value silence as much as she had grown to once she arrived at court. It never stopped and it was always drivel.

"The dress isn't that bad, is it?" She sighed, picking at a bunch of grapes idly.

"Is that your question for the evening, nightingale?"

She glowered at him. He lifted his eyebrows challengingly and she scowled. She lifted a handful of the bulky pink material from her lap, exposing a brief tantalizing flash of her pale slender knees where they were coiled under her.

"Prince… do not test me, not tonight." She warned sternly and he found himself grinning.

"It is not the most flattering look I have ever seen." Loki shrugged diplomatically, putting on his best courtier face.

She sighed but let it slide. She couldn't hold it against the Queen, she had given her a gown and braided her hair herself and with nothing but good intentions and affection. She eyed Loki out of the corner of her eye. He looked remarkably relaxed, more so than she had ever seen him. He was sitting with his back to the chair, one long leg stretched out and one knee drawn up. If nothing else, her ridiculous appearance had broken the ice between them.

After they'd eaten, they fell into surprisingly normal conversation. They discussed books, Frigga and the court and managed to avoid any of the awkward topics that would ruin their precariously enjoyable evening. Loki slyly slipped in a few hints and subtle enquiries that she deftly deflected. It was a game and they both knew it. She was not quite as good as he was, but she was certainly good enough to keep him entertained.

Loki leaned over to fill her goblet with the thick expensive red wine, his shoulder so close to her she could feel the heat from his body. His eyes shimmered as he glanced at her and she fought to keep a flush from her cheeks. She had gotten too carried away enjoying the intelligent conversation and dangerous back and forth of their game and had taken a little too much wine. It also didn't help that he smelt strangely delicious.

"I think it's time for my song, pet." He murmured and she frowned, catching the husky lilt of his voice.

He was reeling her in, she realised. Toying with her. Plying her with wine until she dropped her guard. She felt a flicker of disappointment in her chest. She had momentarily forgotten how manipulative he was and had almost believed it was real. She turned her cheek from his slightly.

Loki saw something flicker in the back of her eyes, the sudden tightness around her mouth and her shoulders drawing in slightly. He masked his frown. Curious as to why she looked so crestfallen all of a sudden. She thought for a moment, looking at the obnoxiously glowing wall. Her lips curled slightly and she looked down at her lap, clearly deciding something internally. When she finally opened her mouth, he was somewhat startled by the upbeat rhythm of her song, she had only sung softer ballads for him so far.

"I know you're lying  
'Cause your lips are moving  
Tell me do you think I'm dumb?  
I might be young, but I ain't stupid  
Talking round in circles with your tongue  
I gave you bass, you gave me sweet talk  
Saying how I'm your number one  
But I know you're lying  
'Cause your lips are moving  
Baby, don't ya know I'm done  
If your lips are moving, if your lips are moving  
If your lips are moving, then you're lyin', lyin', lyin', babe  
If your lips are moving, if your lips are moving  
If your lips are moving, then you're lyin', lyin', lyin', babe  
Hey, baby, don't you bring them tears  
'Cause it's too late, too late, babe  
You only love me when you're here  
You're so two-faced, two-faced, babe."

Loki listened in silence, fighting the urge to laugh. There was not one person on this planet that would dare to say something like that to him and she was singing it in that hypnotic voice, with her bad attitude written in the tilt of her shoulder and the defiant lift of her chin. He knew she was goading him, her choice of song made that quite evident, but he found her daring too amusing to rise to the challenge. He was finding that more and more often, her attitude and unwillingness to put up with his tricks was distinctly attractive to him. He couldn't abide those court girls swooning at his every idle word.

She averted her gaze, apparently nervous she had pushed him too far. He decided not to comment on her choice of song further than a thin knowing smile and she chewed her lip anxiously.

"Your question?"

She looked uncertain again, her nails picking at the gems on her sleeve absently. She had prepared a question for him earlier in the day, but it seemed pointless now so she frantically scrambled for something new.

"Why do you wear that mask?" She blurted suddenly and he turned his head to look at her.

She had no idea where that question had come from. She'd been wracking her brains, seeing him out of the corner of her eye looking bored and uninterested, and the words had just fallen out of her mouth.

"I mean it." She interrupted when he opened his mouth, holding up a hand to stem whatever he was about to say to her. "You wear that mask, why? To hide who you really are? To make people forget that you are a strong, intelligent handsome man and not a murdering monster? To create a barrier between yourself and anyone else?" Eira broke off abruptly with a vaguely horrified look on her face.

Loki wavered for a moment, caught between anger and something like hurt. She was looking at him warily, her crimson hair pooling over her shoulders and clashing with that hideous dress, her eyes huge and dark.

"That, was a good deal more than one question." He said coldly.

She visibly paled but her gaze was firm on his.

"An answer to the first one will do."

He fought that wild urge to smile again. Her daring always amused him.

"Allow me to ponder my answer?" He cocked his head.

She continued to stare at him in silence for a very long moment, then she nodded.

"Next time." She agreed, gathering the expansive skirts in her hand and struggling to her feet under the cumbersome dress. "No lies, Prince."

He held his hands out in a thoroughly innocent gesture and she rolled her eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Don't own don't sue

 **So from some reviews I've received lately I can only assume that some readers believed I would write an entire original song for each chapter. Unfortunately I am not that talented and I apologise for any disappointment. I would just like to reiterate that each chapter of this fic will contain lyrics from a song that I have chosen to fit the story, a song that I have not written, do not claim credit for, have no affiliation with and do not seek to earn any money from. If you are offended by this, I would kindly request you find a different fic.**

Lyrics at the beginning are from 'If I Knew' by Bruno Mars

Lyrics in the middle are from 'Footprints' by Sia

 **If I Knew**

 **Chapter Six**

I was a city boy  
Right into danger's where I'd always run a boy who had his fun  
But I wouldn't've done  
All the things that I have done  
If I knew one day you'd come

Loki was not having the best of days. His imprisonment was suddenly playing on his mind worse than ever for some inexplicable reason and yet he couldn't for the life of him find his familiar anger. His heart was heavy today. He stared at the book in his lap without seeing the words, the images swirling lazily on the open pages. His nightingale had not visited him for three days and there had been no other visitors to his fellow prisoners which meant no gossiping amongst the guards he could eavesdrop on. He raised his eyes to the ceiling of his cell. This is what it had come to? Hoping for some nonsense overheard court gossip, just to keep his mind ticking over. He looked at the book again, the words cold and uninteresting. He couldn't even choose which of the books in the Grand Library to read for himself.

His mother's form materialised in the corner of the room, her smile twisting slightly and her eyebrows lifting as she took in the image of her youngest son sprawled on his bed in shirt and trousers with bare feet and uncombed hair.

"Loki?"

He barely raised his gaze from the pages before him to acknowledge her. She crossed the cell towards him, all too aware that she couldn't sit beside him as she wanted to. Her poor boy.

"This is how you greet your mother?" She chastised lightly, a faint smile on her lips.

His mouth tightened slightly but he didn't respond and Frigga felt a tiny flicker of panic in her belly. Loki was never silent; he always had something to say regardless of the circumstances. She chattered vaguely, about the court and the war and other nonsense she knew did not interest him. Frigga knew he was listening carefully, whether he chose to show it or not.

"I believe you entertained for supper." She said suddenly, quashing a smirk when his fingers tightened involuntarily on the book in his hands.

"Comforting to find that the court gossip continues unabated." He said waspishly.

"Don't be foolish, dear." Frigga rolled one shoulder in an elegant shrug and plucked at a non-existent thread on the sleeve of her dress. "The court has no idea."

Loki bit back a retort.

"I must say, my Lady returned from your supper in much the same state of mind you are currently displaying." Frigga continued pleasantly, circling around the cell and examining the books piled haphazardly on his table.

"I'm not sure what you are implying, Mother." Loki said icily in his best warning tone.

"She's sulking, too." Frigga clarified sweetly.

Loki opened his mouth furiously but managed to keep his silence as he realised exactly what his mother was trying to do. He would not give her the satisfaction. Frigga sighed as he turned back to his book. She had somewhat successfully prised him out of his black mood and into a fit of irritation and she was well aware that she could do no more. She knew him well enough for that.

"She looked stunning, didn't she?" Frigga said casually, glancing over her shoulder at Loki.

In his mind's eye, Loki saw her looming above him in that hideous pink dress, her beautiful red hair knotted and twisted and strung with ribbons. He wanted desperately to laugh at the memory of the outrage on her face but he forced it down. Frigga continued to study him curiously for a moment before promising to visit later in the week and taking her leave.

Loki let his head fall back against the bedstead, staring up at the brilliantly lit ceiling of his cell. Whether in the way she'd intended or not, his mother had cheered him slightly. If only by reminding him of her humiliated anger. Thinking of her reminded him of her last question. He did not have an answer, at least not one he was willing to share or examine too closely. Her questions were curious. She didn't seem to be gaining anything from them, which meant she must have a different agenda. What could she be hoping to gain from him? She had surprised him with her side of their bargain, it had even occurred to him that she had figured it out. After all, what did you ask for from the God of lies and mischief? He pushed a hand through his hair, feeling his mouth quirk. It was quite simple really, but most people got caught up in the physical aspects of power. What did you ask for from the God of Lies? The truth.

Minutes later he heard steps approaching his cell, the faint shush of magic as she stepped through the barrier. He could smell her familiar scent, feel the warmth emanating from her body from across the cell. It was so odd how a real person could completely change the reality of his cell.

"Prince?"

She was looking at him with concern, her wicked green eyes widening slightly. Loki had not combed his hair that morning and was sitting in nothing but a loose-fitting shirt and trousers. His bare feet looked oddly vulnerable against the silk sheets of the bed.

"Sing me a song, nightingale." Loki murmured, still facing the ceiling, and she blinked at him in surprise. "I feel maudlin today."

She scrunched her forehead up thoughtfully, lifting the chair and placing it beside the bed.

"Are you doing this to avoid answering my last question?" She asked suspiciously.

Loki smiled faintly. The lack of response seemed to worry her, just as it had his mother. She continued to stare at him warily and he waited patiently for her choice.

"I've fallen through the floor again, crashed into the basement  
Your pain was swallowing me  
I was like a leper when I couldn't even get up towards  
The lights from the door was swallowing me  
Lord knows you can't trust your head  
When you're standing on the edge  
I'm breaking down  
Lord knows you can't trust your head  
When you're hanging by a thread  
I was breaking down  
And I saw only two footprints in the sand  
Thought you'd abandoned me and  
Let go of my hand  
But you were carrying me  
Carrying me to safety  
Two footprints, your footprints in the sand  
Two footprints, two footprints, your footprints in the sand  
Two footprints, your footprints in the sand."

She caught her breath for a moment and then grinned at Loki.

"Maudlin enough for you?"

His mouth twisted and his teeth flashed. He was rather amused to find he had enjoyed the song, the flowing melody and the surprisingly high notes. He had watched her throat as she reached those piercing notes, fascinated by the muscles in her long slender neck working to produce those rather spine-tingling sounds.

"Are you alright, Prince?"

Loki looked at her steadily; her crimson hair coiling over one shoulder, her slender body straight-backed and elegant in her peach dress, her mouth pursed as she chewed on her lower lip. Her eyes were huge and earnest. She didn't seem to be wheedling for an advantage against him, she seemed genuinely concerned.

"The mask has slipped today, love." He sighed eventually.

Her lip slipped from between her teeth, reddened where she'd worried at it. She looked away briefly and then turned back to him, a faint flush on her cheekbones.

"Some days it's harder to pretend than others." She murmured.

Loki's eyes narrowed as he tried to determine if she was mocking him or not. He knew she would dare to mock him when so many others wouldn't. Eira wasn't afraid of him anymore, but she was not complacent and she was smart enough not to trust him. She was aware that he had the power and the will to snap her neck like a twig should he care to, but she also knew that should he want to kill her he would and there was very little she could do to stop it. So she chose to ignore it, and he chose to believe her concern was genuine.

Eira cocked her head, watching him warily. She was trying to decide if it was all a ploy, another game of his. He was staring listlessly at the ceiling, his long elegant fingers toying idly with the pages of the book he'd discarded. If he was playing a game, he was playing it very well. After a long moment of awkward silence, Eira stood and crossed the cell.

"Leaving so soon, nightingale?"

He'd tossed the question out lazily but he was sitting up and looking at her for the first time since she'd arrived. She took the book from the table and showed it to him as she crossed back to her chair. He watched her as she settled into the chair, toeing off her shoes from beneath her dress.

Eira lifted her feet and propped them, in a most unladylike fashion, on the edge of his bed and opened up the book. She could feel Loki watching her curiously as she forced herself to read the first page under his gaze. She couldn't explain it but she knew that he did not want their usual word games tonight, but neither did he want to return to his solitude. By the time she had reached the end of the first chapter he was still staring at her. She lifted her eyebrows questioningly.

"No question tonight?"

She smiled, turning the page noisily.

"Another one?"

Loki frowned, skimming over their sparse conversation in his mind. She was right. Technically she had asked him two questions, two minor questions that had barely even registered. He fought a smirk as she very deliberately returned to the book in her hands and continued reading.

* * *

She was dozing. He could see her eyelashes gliding against her cheeks at shorter and shorter intervals and the brilliant green of her eyes narrowing gradually. They had been reading in silence for hours. The lights had dimmed as the sun set, there would be another hour of the dim lights that mirrored candlelight before they would be extinguished and the prisoners expected to sleep. He had thrown up a minor glamour to hide her as the guards did their rounds. She was deeply ensconced in the book, her body curled in the chair and her feet propped delicately on the side of his bed. Her toenails glimmered with golden polish. Loki had alternated between reading the book he had little interest in, watching her devour the hefty tome in her lap and lapsing into deep thought.

He was slightly concerned by how soothing he was finding her silent presence. Maybe it was just the silent presence of another being in this cold cruel cell, a living warmth rather than the artificial he was surrounded by at all times. He felt oddly grateful to her for understanding what he needed without him having to wound his pride by asking. They had sat in companionable silence, sharing his meal when it was delivered with barely a word exchanged between them. If she had found the guards who delivered his evening meal ignoring her curious, she had not mentioned it.

It was probably a combination of the faint lighting and the soothing practice of reading but her head dropped against her shoulder and her fingers went limp on the book in her lap. She slept sweetly, her long lashes sweeping her cheekbones and her pretty mouth pursed slightly. He let her sleep, perusing his book idly as he tried to work out what he was going to do with her. He could hardly keep the glamour up all night and he had no way to get her back to her chambers without alerting the guards to her presence.

Eira woke several hours later in Loki's bed, the cell dark as night around her and panic fluttering in her chest as she tried to understand where she was. Gradually her eyes adjusted to the darkness. There was a faint light emanating from the barrier that cast an eerie glow over the cell. She presumed it was very early in the morning for the lights to still be out in the cells. Loki was sleeping in the chair, his long legs sprawled out and his neck twisted at what must have been an uncomfortable angle. His face was scrunched up as he dreamt, his mouth frowning and his brows drawn down over his twitching eyelids.

Poor Prince. Even in his dreams he didn't get any peace. She sat up slowly, unwilling to wake him. He must have moved her to the bed gently or she would have woken. Why had he taken her place in the chair? It was certainly not the most comfortable chair in the palace. It was most unlike him and the thought made her uneasy. He shifted slightly, grimaced, and opened his eyes. There was a fleeting moment where his eyes were remarkably soft and unguarded, before his mask slid back into place and he met her gaze coolly.

"You moved me to the bed." She said quietly, fiddling idly with the bedspread. "You should have woken me."

Loki gave her a thoroughly unconvincing humble shrug, trying and failing to conjure an earnest expression on his face.

"What kind of host would I be?"

She rolled her eyes.

"And here I thought chivalry was dead." She grinned.

Loki grimaced, rolling his shoulders and neck. He was moving stiffly and she felt a stab of guilt in her belly. He shouldn't have slept in that chair all night, he should have woken her. She edged across the bed towards him. He eyed her warily and she glared at him.

"Have I ever given you reason not to trust me, Prince?"

His mouth tightened as if he wanted to say something but she narrowed her eyes at him and he decided against it. She moved across the bed until she was directly beside the chair, then she indicated for him to turn around. Looking at her distrustfully and giving a martyred sigh as if he expected death to follow shortly, Loki rotated the chair so she was situated behind him. He managed not to flinch when she touched him, only by sheer will.

Tentatively at first, Eira's delicate fingers dug into the knots in his neck and shoulders. She massaged Frigga sometimes, when she had been using more complex magic than usual or when she had been training in the weapons yard. This felt different. Her heart was starting to thump rapidly against her ribcage and her mouth was dry. She tried to ignore the scent of him, overwhelming now she was so close to him, as she diligently worked at the painful knots sleeping in that ridiculous chair had given him.

Unused to being touched Loki squirmed slightly as her fingers touched the bare skin of his neck, her thumbs brushing under his hairline and raising the tiny hairs on his body. He shivered.

"Keep still." She ordered as he shifted again when her fingers reached a particularly painful knot at the base of his neck.

Loki was disturbed at how his body was reacting to her ministrations. It had been a long time since he had been with anyone but this, this was something different. He didn't just feel aroused as one would expect when a beautiful woman was easing the tensions of his body, he could feel intimacy stirring and that would simply not do. He leapt to his feet so quickly that she fell forwards in surprise and had to cling to the back chair to keep her balance. She stared at him in the semi-dark cell, the silence between them awkward and growing.

"You should return to your chambers before you are missed."

Eira almost thought she could detect a wobble in his voice but she dismissed it as fantasy almost immediately. He was right. Frigga would rise soon and some questions were best avoided. She slipped from the bed, grabbed her discarded shoes and exited the cell without a word.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Don't own don't sue

Lyrics at the beginning are from 'If I Knew' by Bruno Mars

Lyrics in the middle are from 'Who We Are' by Uncle Kracker

 **If I Knew**

 **Chapter Seven**

I was a city boy  
Right into danger's where I'd always run a boy who had his fun  
But I wouldn't've done  
All the things that I have done  
If I knew one day you'd come

"Eira."

Eira blinked, trying to clear her vision. The Queen frowned at her suspiciously and Eira forced herself to smile guilelessly back at her. She was coming down with something, she knew that very well, but she had not been able to visit Loki for almost a week and tonight would be the best opportunity for another week. She was not going to be ordered to take to her bed.

"Your move."

Eira blinked down at the game spread out before them. It was indeed her move. She never won this game, Frigga was exceptionally skilled and Eira had been a lazy student. She poked one of her pieces across the board absently, pondering how to brush a bead of sweat from her brow without alerting Frigga. She shifted idly in her chair to keep herself awake as Frigga chattered about Thor's adventures and the nonsense court gossip. Eira let her mind wander as the coloured squares of the board danced across her vision.

She was almost nervous to see the Prince. Something had shifted between them during that long night in his cell. She wasn't sure what had happened, what was between them now. If there was anything between them. It was very confusing. Eira enjoyed having the control in her dalliances, she very deliberately chose those who would be easy to discard when she tired of them. This was different and she wasn't sure if she liked that or not. It made her feel as if she were sliding into a very deep hole.

Frigga was peering over her shoulder when Eira snapped back to reality and she blinked. Odin was standing in the doorway to Frigga's chambers, his grizzled face unreadable as his single eye darted between them. Frigga stared at him enquiringly for a long silent moment, before smiling across at Eira and dismissing her. Eira curtsied to the King on her way out, scurrying down the hallway before either of them could look too closely at her fever-bright eyes.

She dashed to her quarters and stripped out of her sweat drenched clothes. She just needed to make it through the next few hours, visit the Prince and make it back to her rooms. The hallways leading to the dungeons were blessedly cool as she padded in thin silk slippers towards the huge mirrored doors. She had uncharacteristically bound her hair back from her face to hide the sweat prickling on her scalp but nothing could disguise the hectic flush in her cheeks or the drunken sparkle in her eyes. She almost missed a step on her way into the dungeons and she placed a steadying hand on the cool stone wall.

She hesitated, wondering if she should just turn around. No. It wasn't fair to abandon him. He was unnecessarily unpleasant during her visits, when he wasn't trying to trick her by flirting, but if she had been imprisoned then she was sure one visitor, whether you liked them or not, would be better than none.

* * *

"You are unwell." Loki declared, somewhat sulkily. He had been rather looking forward to a night of verbal sparring with her.

"A fever." She said dismissively, turning away slightly so he wouldn't see how brightly her eyes were glittering.

"You should have visited the healers."

She rolled her eyes, putting a hand up to her burning cheek.

"If I had, I would have been unable to visit you this evening. Do you have that many visitors that you can afford to spare one?" She replied sweetly, enjoying the way his eyes narrowed.

"Come here." He commanded grandly, malice colouring every syllable.

Eira lifted her eyebrows, tilting her chin slightly in defiance.

"You presume to order me?"

Pink spots of anger had grown on Loki's cheekbones and his eyes were practically spitting sparks.

"I am your Prince." He snarled, his fingers twitching with the urge to strangle her.

"You keep reminding me that you are not." Eira grinned cruelly.

Loki was emitting as much heat as she was now, anger racing through his veins. How dare she? She stared across at him calmly, but her fingers were clenched tightly into the material of her dress.

"Come here." He tried again, in a more conciliatory tone.

She crossed the cell, sitting warily in the chair that was fast becoming far too familiar to her. Loki turned towards her, leaning over her as she sat stiff-backed in the chair. He studied her carefully in complete silence for a long moment, his eyes vividly blue as he focused. He pursed his lips and she blinked, suddenly realising how close they were, how soft they looked. She was so distracted, she didn't even notice him raise his hands. She jumped when she felt him place a long-fingered hand on either side of her face, his fingertips remarkably cool against her feverish skin.

"What are you doing?" She murmured, too startled to notice the wobble in her voice but Loki noticed and stored it away for later use.

"Keep still." He snapped.

Eira opened her mouth to argue but the look he shot her would have curdled milk and she closed it again with a poisonous glare. Eira held her silence for several long minutes, absently wondering why his fingertips remained cool against her skin.

"What are you doing?" She finally demanded.

"Experimenting." He replied easily.

"Whatever you're doing, it's not helping."

Eira could feel her body burning, could almost imagine the heatwaves rising from her skin.

"Stop." She stammered faintly, feeling her head starting to swim.

Loki didn't reply. He placed his hands more firmly on her, tilting her face until they were eye to eye, inches apart. Eira's vision was blurring but she could see the hypnotising blue of his gaze staring so intently at her she could almost feel it. She felt a strange tingling sensation pulsing over her body, like miniscule insects were crawling through her veins, and then her vision started to clear. Loki's nose was a millimetre away from hers, his mouth, murmuring words she couldn't catch, was so close she could feel the heat of his breath. She felt her skin cooling, the fever withdrawing from her body like a blanket being whipped away. Loki's hands followed the curve of her cheeks, his fingers were in her hair, his thumbs pressing against her temples. The moment seemed to freeze and crystalize between them, suspended like a diamond in whatever energy was pulsing between them.

Loki peered down at her; her face nestled in his hands looking vulnerable and more beautiful than ever. There was a flush on her cheekbones that he was certain was not a reaction to her fever. She stared back at him defiantly, her long dark lashes emphasising the brilliant emerald of her eyes. Her plump lips were pursed and a breath away from his. He had been experimenting with his heritage, since he had little else to do in here, and he had managed to combine what he knew of healing with the freezing properties he was learning to harness. He had frozen her fever out of her and he was now feeling inordinately clever and smug. No one appreciated his genius.

He blinked out of his self-satisfied haze when he felt her hands gliding along his arms. He tilted his head slightly as he watched her delicate fingers curling around his wrists. Her lips parted and her lashes lowered, feathering across her cheekbones. Loki had been waiting for her to show him some deference from the day he met her. Now she had, he felt something squirm deep in his stomach.

"I-" She bit her lower lip, her eyes opening as she tilted back her head to meet his gaze.

"It's simpler to be what they expect me to be." He said suddenly, watching a tiny line appear between her eyebrows as her brow furrowed in confusion. "Whilst they're distracted by what they think I am, I can be whatever I want." He cocked his head until her lips were scarcely a breath away from his. "My mask, nightingale."

It took her a long moment, her head swimming from his proximity, to remember her question about his mask, to realise that he was finally answering one of her questions with a whisper of truth. He finally let her go and she wobbled slightly. He stepped away from her, an inscrutable dark look crossing his face.

"Your turn."

Eira blinked, her mind slightly fuzzy from the rapid departure of the fever and Loki's honesty. She looked away from him, scrambling to clear her head and select a song.

"Bourbon and whiskey, tequila and scotch  
Chocolate Martinis and Jaegerbomb shots  
Ice cold Cerveza replaces the day  
Takes off the edge and takes us away  
Play us a song about losing  
Play us a song about love  
Play us a song about freedom  
Feeling wild and young  
And play that piano  
Let every song reach into our hearts  
Play that piano  
And let us forget who we are  
They wanna shake it to Mustang Sally  
They're screaming Margaritaville  
Writing New Orleans ladies, somebody's baby on one hundred dollar bills  
All the boys wanna hear Bocephus, Centerfold and Purple Rain  
It's all drunken drama, somebody's mama  
Got run over by a damned old train  
Sing us a song about dreaming  
Sing us a song about life  
Sing us a song about leaving  
Cheatin' husbands and wives  
We hide from tomorrow and yesterday's hells  
We run from each other, we run from ourselves  
Get lost in the music, get lost in the dark  
What we all have in common is our favorite bar  
So play that piano  
Fill us with laughter and tear us apart  
Play that piano  
And let us forget who we are."

Loki tapped his chin thoughtfully as she sang, the faint traces of her fever adding a husky seductive lilt. It was a gentle melancholy song and Loki felt an uncharacteristic pang of tenderness pricking his chest. He pulled the chair back for her, gesturing when she eyed him suspiciously. She sank down into the chair warily and he felt a flush of irritation. Why would she doubt him? People were so dubious of his motives. He watched her fiddle with the sleeve on her dress absently. He had never seen her as anything less than poised and graceful. This was unusual and he was mildly surprised to find himself unwilling to press his advantage in this situation. How curious.

"Thank you." She said suddenly, snapping him out of his ruminations. "For healing me."

"You are welcome." He said grandly with a flourishing flick of his wrist and she rolled her eyes. "Do you have your question?"

She blinked, her eyes sliding past him and staring out at the dim dungeon beyond the barrier.

"If there was none of this…" She waved her hand at the dungeon, gesturing up at the ceiling to indicate the palace crouching above them. "No throne, no kingdom. What would you wish for?"

Loki studied her silently for a long time; her elegant profile glimmering in the glow from the barrier, the fiery red of her hair, her posture automatically perfect in the uncomfortable chair. He was not one for sitting and pondering the "what ifs" of existence, his mind went to the future at all times.

"A purpose."

She looked at him over her shoulder, her eyes unreadable but a faint shimmer of surprise flitting across her face.

"I imagine it would be rewarding, to have a purpose." She rolled her shoulders in a half-shrug. "Providing it was a purpose that could be achieved."

Loki narrowed his eyes, trying to discern if she was mocking him or not.

"I don't think I have a purpose." She mused, the light from the barrier reflecting in her eyes. "My family expect me to marry. The court expect me to serve." Eira's gaze slid towards him, a faint smirk dancing on her lips. "You expect me to sing."

"Fulfilling the expectations of others is a purpose in itself." Loki shrugged, flicking lint from the cuff of his shirt.

"Of course. If you have no higher aspirations." Eira snorted dismissively.

"Do you, nightingale?"

Eira pursed her pretty lips, her eyes flashing warningly. Loki smirked.

"And how is your purpose working out for you, Prince?" She asked sweetly, extending her hand to indicate the cell.

Loki's face darkened like a thundercloud. He saw her eyes fluttering, her face pinching with tiredness.

"You should retire."

His mouth flashed that wolfish grin that made her toes curl and he moved towards her. He could see she was justifiably wary as he took her hand and raised her from the chair.

"Unless you would like to stay." He purred, drawing her closer.

She flushed in confusion, trying to draw back from him but he tugged her closer with very little effort. His grip on her hand was like iron and his other arm slipped around her slender waist. He was toying with her, she knew that, but she was affected nonetheless. He looked so handsome with his wicked eyes shining into hers, his mouth curled into a mocking smile sharp enough to draw blood.

Eira could feel her heart pounding painfully against her ribs, her body tingling like lightening. She forced herself to remain calm, to keep her face expressionless while he studied her so closely for a weakness. She met his gaze through her lashes, a faint smile curling her lips.

"Ask me again, Prince." She gently disengaged herself from his grip, darting over to the barrier before Loki could reply. "Ask me again when you mean it."


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Don't own don't sue

Lyrics at the beginning are from 'If I Knew' by Bruno Mars

Lyrics in the middle are from 'Good Enough' by Jussie Smollett (Empire Soundtrack) and 'Beautiful Disaster' by Kelly Clarkson

 **If I Knew**

 **Chapter** **Eight**

I was a city boy  
Right into danger's where I'd always run, a boy who had his fun  
But I wouldn't've done  
All the things that I have done  
If I knew one day you'd come

Eira scowled, snapping her lips closed so tightly her face started to ache. She had been unable to visit the Prince for nearly a week after he had healed her and she arrived after supper to find him in a foul mood. To say the least. Whatever intimacy had been between them was apparently gone and he was not even pretending to be polite towards her anymore. She had chosen to ignore the complete reverse of attitude towards her until she could decipher what was going on.

He'd been in a loathsome mood since the moment she had entered his cell. She had chattered to him as normal, ignoring the barbs he threw at her and his attempts at goading her that went far beyond his usual playful attempts. He was sulkily silent unless he was slipping a cruelly barbed comment into her chatter and he hadn't bothered to look at her once. His last comment was so unkind that she flinched and fell silent, flipping through one of his books idly without taking in a word. Her silence only made his mood even blacker, if she didn't know any better she'd think he was angry with himself for being so unnecessarily harsh. He was sprawled in the velvet chair, glowering moodily up at the ceiling. She was seated at his feet on the small stool, yet after his last words she had twisted slightly away from him to disguise the flush on her cheeks.

"If you're going to be petty and vindictive, let's get this over with." She finally snapped, seething with anger.

He waved a hand carelessly at her and she bristled. Treating her like some lapdog, how dare he! She contemplated for a moment, wondering what to sing for him. She chewed on her lip thoughtfully and he grumbled something under his breath, glaring at her with such uncalled for hatred that she had to look away. She wanted to hurt him.

"I gave you all of me but it still ain't enough to make you happy  
I gave you everything  
It still don't measure up  
Feels like I walked five thousand miles and didn't even come close  
Feels like I try to make you smile but you don't even care, no  
I'll never be big enough to pay your dues but I keep trying  
And you just keep making me jump through hoops  
What do I got to do?  
I just want you to look at me  
And see that I can be worth your love  
I just want you to look at me  
And see that I can be  
Good enough, good enough, good enough  
I try to show you that I'm strong, why do I even bother?  
'Cause it's the same old damn song  
You call yourself a father?  
Feels like I'm reaching for the stars but heaven isn't letting me  
I wish that I had longer arms but I know that that will never be never be  
I'll never be big enough to pay your dues but I keep trying  
And you just keep making me jump through hoops  
What do I got to do?  
I just want you to look at me  
And see that I can be worth your love  
I just want you to look at me  
And see that I can be  
Good enough, good enough, good enough."

Loki was frozen as if he'd been turned to stone; his hands gripping the arms of the chair so tightly his knuckles were white. His face could have been made of marble, apart from his eyes; they were huge and burning and alive. She wanted to apologise, to take back the song she had chosen. She had chosen it deliberately to provoke him but she knew she had gone too far. His relationship with his father was none of her business and she had thrown it in his face. She couldn't open her mouth, couldn't summon the words and she knew that if she did dare to apologise it would damage the relationship between them even further.

"Ask your question." He said in a dangerously quiet voice, his gaze fixed on her.

She shook her head helplessly. His eyes were almost black they had darkened so much with his rage. Chips of black ice. To her surprise, Eira felt a tear slip down her cheek and she quickly swiped it away. She didn't feel angry anymore, nor was she afraid, she felt guilty for throwing his pain back at him and for using his weakness against him. She had hurt him, just as she wanted, and she felt despicable.

"Ask your question, nightingale." He ordered icily.

Eira slipped from the stool onto the cell floor, sitting back on her calves. He blinked at her warily. His rage had receded as the words of her song had filtered through the red fog in his mind. He was surprised to find that she had hurt him. A simple song from Midgard that she had deliberately chosen, knowing it would cut him to the bone. She sat at his feet, her face white and her eyes huge as she gazed up at him, her golden yellow dress a pool around her. He waited for her question and he realised that if she asked him some nonsense about his preference in colours or animals, then whatever this was developing between them would be over.

"Forgive me?" She asked weakly, a second tear rolling across her exquisite cheekbone.

He felt something that had clenched in his chest release slightly. She understood.

"What for, love?" He asked with the faintest hint of a deadly smirk.

She gave him a reproachful look, ignoring the endearment.

"Don't do that, Prince." She shook her head at him. "It's beneath you to take pleasure in someone's shame."

For a moment Loki contemplated continuing, to see how far he could push her, but the look in her eyes convinced him that she was genuinely remorseful. He leaned towards her suddenly and she tilted her head back in surprise. It occurred to him briefly that he enjoyed her in this submissive position, gazing up at him guardedly. In fact it was most stimulating. As if she could read his mind, or the hunger in his gaze, the shadow of a smile flickered across her mouth and she dropped her eyes modestly. Loki felt his smirk widen as he studied the inky black lashes casting shadows against her cheeks, the darkness between them dissipating.

"I forgive you." He announced grandly, leaning back in his chair and gesturing for her to stand.

She shot him a look, refusing to stand on principle and he genuinely laughed at her stubbornness, startling them both. Eira sighed and moved so she could lean her shoulder against the chair leg, curling her legs beneath her under the blanket of her expansive skirts. Loki was somewhat disquieted by her sudden close proximity but he didn't comment.

"I have another question." She murmured, smoothing a hand over her silken skirts to keep herself occupied. "Why have you had the personality of a wounded boar this evening?"

Loki shifted sulkily in the chair. He preferred to think he was showing his displeasure in an effective manner. He didn't like to be judged, to be criticized or called on for his behaviour. Especially when he knew she had a point. He was thrown by his attraction to her, how much she surprised him at every one of their meetings. It had stunned him to realise that he would have enjoyed her company if he had been free. He had convinced himself that he took pleasure in her visits simply because she was one of his only two visitors. When she had appeared in his cell with that fever burning in her eyes, he had felt a needle of concern deep in his spine. He felt concern for no one save his mother, his brother and his father.

His love for his mother was unquestionable, a constant presence like the beating of his heart. His love for his brother was a living, moving thing, uncontrollable and electric, just like lightning. His love for his father was another concept entirely, something he had no wish to examine in any great detail even with all of the time he now had on his hands. It was deeply disconcerting to contemplate adding someone to that list.

So naturally he'd done what he always did and tried to push her away. In his cruel manipulative way.

She had tilted her head back to look at him while he was brooding, her brilliant hair a splash of colour against his dark trousers and her ivory skin glowing in the golden light from the cell. The deference had vanished, she was waiting expectantly for her answer with a twist of impatience on her lips. He leaned back against the chair, staring across at the barrier without really seeing it. There was more chance of Thor suddenly becoming a keen scholar than him admitting any of the above to her.

"Our agreement, Prince." She said primly, with a bite of impatience. "Was a song for an answer. A truthful answer." Her pretty face was sharp with displeasure. "You seem incapable of keeping to our agreement."

Loki struggled to maintain his grin, peering down at her indignant little face glaring back at him.

"You seem incapable of providing me with a sweet little ditty to calm my dark impulses." He replied mildly, watching the emotions flash in her brilliant eyes.

"That was never specified in our agreement, Prince."

He gave her a bland, unassuming smile. He did hate it so when she called him Prince.

"I spent too long inside my own head." He said suddenly, making a deliberate show of examining his nails. "It is not a pleasant place to spend one's time. I will admit that there are times when… well, one's thoughts get the better of one."

He had surprised her. Her eyes were bigger than ever, blinking at him suspiciously, her tempting little mouth pursed. He felt a little swell of desire flood his belly, satisfaction bubbling in his chest that he had taken her by surprise. One of the few things he feared in life was becoming predictable. Predictable was one step away from forgettable and he had no intentions of being either.

"Are there no good places in there?" She murmured, her eyes skimming over his face as if she could see straight through him.

"Not enough."

* * *

"You're cheating."

"I beg your pardon, songbird?"

"You're cheating!"

Loki feigned his most innocent look, that had never fooled a soul even when he was a child and innocence was inherently presumed. Eira's face was scrunched up in irritation, her cheeks flushed and her mouth a sulky line.

"Do you presume to accuse me of-"

"Yes!" She cut him off loudly. "You are cheating!"

Loki chuckled, holding up his hands in his best impression of innocence.

"Why would I need to cheat?"

She narrowed her eyes at him accusingly, looking prettier than he had ever seen her in her ire.

"Because you cannot help yourself, Prince." She snapped back haughtily, pushing her hair from her face impatiently.

Loki flashed her a grin and she scowled. It was another unbearably hot day and, while most of the court had taken to the rivers in the search of cool breezes, Eira had known it would be cooler in the underground dungeons and had taken advantage of the empty palace to beat a hasty retreat. She had half expected him to be angry with her again, but she had found him more relaxed than she had ever seen him. He had opened up a tiny fraction after their last conversation and that dratted song she had chosen. She had shown him the board for one of the games she played with Frigga and his eyes had glittered with interest. She had taught him how to play in a relatively short space of time and had then subsequently lost every game to him.

"Perhaps I am innately gifted at this." He suggested, thoroughly enjoying how ruffled she was.

She glowered again. It was a mark of the heat outside that the dungeons were warmer than usual, evidenced in her pink cheeks and the delicate beads of sweat dotting her bare neck where her hair was gathered in a bundle on top of her head. He had indeed been cheating, a game so simple needed very little effort to manipulate, and he had in fact been pondering how soft her hair must be to be sliding from its pins so readily when she had called out his cheating.

"You are a sore loser, songbird." He teased, leaning back against the cell wall.

"I can accept losing, should I lose fairly." She grumbled mutinously, pushing the board away from her.

"You are temptingly attractive when you are sulking, love."

Her cheeks flushed even further as she scowled at him.

"Do you often win against my mother?"

She straightened up, brushing stray strands of hair from her forehead impatiently.

"No." She admitted sulkily. "Your mother is a master strategist… even when it comes to something as relatively mundane as this."

He didn't reply, watching her study him from under her lashes. He was leaning back against the cell wall, one leg stretched out beside the board between them and one knee pulled up. She was sitting cross-legged on the cushion from his bed, the skirts of her flimsy dress pooled around her. She had appeared in a dress far flimsier than he had ever seen her in before, swatches of a filmy kingfisher blue material elegantly placed to keep her modesty. He had complimented her on her outfit and she had thrown him a suspicious look, blaming the heatwave for her predicament. He could see her slender knees and feet where her legs were crossed, she had removed her shoes almost immediately, the coral paint on her toes flashing in the swirling lights of the cell wall. There was something almost intimate about seeing her bare feet, vulnerable and trusting in their slender white presence. He wouldn't say he found her feet particularly attractive, but he found her willingness to be vulnerable with him inherently desirable.

Their silence was broken by the arrival of his lunch. Eira felt a faint tingling, like lightening was trickling over her skin. Whatever Loki had done, the guard tossed his lunch onto his table without a glance in her direction. She had never been here this early in the day before and it was both curious and faintly heart-wrenching to see how restrictive his routine was. He was so mercurial, like a liquid and just as impossible to pin down, it seemed beyond cruel to confine him to this tiny cell.

"You're staring, songbird." He murmured in amusement, tearing apart a pomegranate with long elegant fingers.

"Perhaps I like what I see." She tossed back, surprising him with her honesty.

He rolled one shoulder in a lazy shrug, accepting the compliment as his due.

"Don't be conceited." She sniffed, rolling her eyes as she accepted the pomegranate half he handed her. "I meant this version of you."

Loki lifted his eyebrows questioningly, chewing on the juicy seeds as she delicately held the dripping fruit away from her dress.

"Relaxed. Real." She clarified, holding the fruit to her mouth and sucking down the seeds.

"Is this the real Loki?" He said curiously, finishing the last of his fruit and tossing the skin back onto the tray.

"I hope it's one side of him." She said seriously, the fruit lying forgotten in her hand as she stared at him intently.

Loki didn't reply. She was right. This was the side of him that only his brother and his mother ever saw. He would like to think he had shown her this side of him to further manipulate her feelings for him, but he wasn't so certain anymore. Truthfully, he did enjoy showing this side of himself. It was exhausting to be on edge all the time, to only show a cold aloof exterior. And he was finding it more and more difficult to keep her at a distance when she was his only anchor to the outside world.

He leaned towards her suddenly and her eyes widened, her nostrils flaring as she froze. He grinned at her, still enjoying her mixed reaction to his proximity. He extended his hand and her gaze flickered from his outstretched fingertips and his face. But she did not draw away from him. He used his thumb to brush away a trickle of purple pomegranate juice from her chin. Her eyes were on his as he sucked the juice from his thumb, mischief dancing in his eyes. He was still leaning towards her, breathing in the intoxicating scent of her perfume and body heat.

She moved even closer to him, until he could feel her sweetly-scented breath on his cheek. He could have counted the silver flecks in her eyes if he'd chosen to. Her lips were stained from the juice of the fruit, lingering enticingly a breath away. He could almost feel a breeze from her long lashes as she lowered her gaze.

"Maybe it's time for your song, Prince." She purred and he felt heat pulsing through his veins.

"I'm listening, songbird." He murmured, tilting his head slightly.

She moved back a fraction, enough so she wasn't stretching her neck and throat out.

"He drowns in his dreams  
An exquisite extreme unknown  
He's as damned as he seems  
And more heaven than a heart could hold  
And if I try to save him, my whole world could cave in  
It just ain't right, no it just ain't right  
Oh and I don't know, I don't know what he's after  
But he's so beautiful, such a beautiful disaster  
And if I could hold on  
Through the tears and the laughter  
Would it be beautiful?  
Or just a beautiful disaster  
He's magic and myth  
As strong as what I believe  
A tragedy with, more damage than a soul should see  
And do I try to change him?  
It's so hard not to blame him  
Hold on tight  
Oh 'cause I don't know, I don't know what he's after  
But he's so beautiful  
Such a beautiful disaster  
And if I could hold on  
Through the tears and the laughter  
Would it be beautiful?  
Or just a beautiful disaster."

Loki felt the hairs on his body standing up. She was singing in a quiet, gentle tone but every word pierced him. It could have been written about him, it felt so personal. This time, there was no malice behind the selection. If he had to choose a word to describe how it felt, he would have said it was intimate. The song she had chosen and had given to him using that singular gift of hers, her voice.

She was so close, he really didn't know what else he could do. He pressed his lips against her before she had quite caught her breath from her song. He was normally so meticulous, carefully planning every single movement he made and how he could gain from it. He had not planned this. He had no idea whether he could trust her or not, whether she would allow this. The thought amused him, that he still could not manipulate quite how he might have liked to even after all their visits together. She did not pull away from him, her lips were soft and pliant against his but she did not return his kiss. Eventually, he drew away and peered at her from under hooded eyes. Curious to see how she would react.

Her cheekbones were pink and her eyes were dark, but she did not look angry. On the contrary, she looked almost put out that he had drawn away from her.

"What was that for?" She breathed, her breath very sweet in the small gap between them.

"Is that your question, love?"

She tilted her head as she pondered, pursing her lips. She nodded slowly, conceding that she would rather have the answer than pose an alternative question. Loki's mouth curled into a smirk, his eyes a wicked glint beneath lowered lids.

"I wanted to." He admitted, shrugging carelessly.

"No other motive?" She confirmed suspiciously.

His smirk widened but he decided against reminding her that their agreement was only for one question.

"You look more stunning today, than I have ever seen you, songbird. Even with pomegranate juice on your pretty dress."

She frowned at him, reprovingly and he flashed her one of the genuine grins that made her belly flutter.

"In fact, if you're not fundamentally opposed to the idea, I'm going to kiss you again."

She blinked at him, her mouth slightly open in shock. After a second, her lips curved and her lashes lowered coyly. It amused him to no end when she played coy.

"I believe I could be persuaded."


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Don't own don't sue

Lyrics at the beginning are from 'If I Knew' by Bruno Mars

Lyrics in the middle are from 'Think of Me' by Phantom of the Opera and 'Blank Space' by Taylor Swift

 **If I Knew**

 **Chapter** **Nine**

I was a city boy  
Right into danger's where I'd always run, a boy who had his fun  
But I wouldn't've done  
All the things that I have done  
If I knew one day you'd come

Frigga peered across the breakfast table at Eira curiously. Her beloved Lady had been in a curious mood all week. She had been smiling all the previous night despite having to play one of the card games she despised with Frigga and several ladies of the court last night. She had barely even cursed when she'd pricked her finger pinning Frigga's hair in place this morning. They were taking breakfast on Frigga's private balcony this morning whilst Thor and Odin were locked in the War Room.

"You seem distracted today, my dear." She suggested innocently.

Eira frowned, rolling one shoulder elegantly and picking idly at the fruit on her plate.

"Not at all, Your Grace." She gave her a brilliant smile and Frigga felt her own grin widen.

"I have a mind to take a turn along the river while the morning is still cool."

Eira nodded distractedly. She hadn't had the opportunity to see the Prince for nearly a week. She was trying not to think of him too often, it was too disconcerting. He had kissed her. Lengthily. As yet, she wasn't certain whether he had done it to gain an advantage over her or not. She had enjoyed it regardless.

It was possible whatever he had planned was working, she pondered as they made their way to the palace dock. She had not dallied with another man since she'd started her visits. She thought of him far more often than she should. She had witnessed a thoroughly salacious piece of court gossip one evening and her first thought had been how his hearing it may grant her one of those genuine wicked grins he bestowed so rarely.

As usual the Ladies of court flocked around Frigga as word spread of the outing and Eira felt a prickle of irritation on her skin. Sometimes she actually envied the Prince and his solitude. Frigga insisted on the Ladies following in their own boats as she and Eira boarded the Royal barge.

Eira relaxed contentedly as the barge swung out onto the river, the cool morning breeze ruffling her hair. She watched Asgard drifting by, the palace shrinking behind them as the dawdled along at a steady pace with the boats fanning out behind them.

"It's beautiful." Frigga observed, her head tilted back so the sun caught her face and glimmered in her hair.

Eira studied the palace and grounds consideringly. It was impressive, to say the least. It still seemed something of an elaborate prison to her. She had spent her entire life amongst the rolling hills and coastal towns of her father's lands, it was a different kind of beauty that she appreciated but she did find Asgard claustrophobic sometimes. There were so many people, so many eyes on you with an interest in your doings.

"My son seems more cheerful of late."

Taken by surprise at the sudden comment, Eira blinked warily.

"I- he is, Your Grace?"

Frigga nodded, humour twinkling in her eyes as she waved at a family on the riverbank.

"Well, Loki was never a cheerful child." Frigga mused. "He seems less restless, I should say."

Eira shifted uncomfortably on the silken cushions, watching a heron launch itself gracefully into the air from the riverbank.

"I'm glad, Your Grace."

It was clear that Eira was not going to share any details of her visits with her son regardless of their friendship. Curious indeed. Frigga studied her in silence; her molten hair was loosely gathered at the nape of her neck in a pretty braided twist that shivered in the breeze, there was colour emphasising the curve of her cheekbones and her brilliant eyes were fixed on the horizon. She could have been a painting, the brilliantly red and gold trees lining the riverbank a stunning backdrop to the wistful look on her still face.

"I think a song will do nicely, dear." Frigga sighed, leaning back against the mountain of pillows, closing her eyes and basking in the warm sunshine.

"Think of me, think of me fondly  
When we've said goodbye  
Remember me, once in a while, please promise me you'll try  
When you find that once again, you long to take your heart back and be free  
If you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me  
We never said our love was evergreen, or as unchanging as the sea  
But if you can still remember, stop and think of me  
Think of all the things, we've shared and seen  
Don't think about the way things might have been  
Think of me, think of me waking, silent and resigned  
Imagine me, trying too hard to put you from my mind  
Recall those days  
Look back on all those times  
Think of the things we'll never do  
There will never be a day, when I won't think of you."

Frigga's hand drifted in the air in time with the melody. It was one of her favourites, she enjoyed its theme of forgotten love and chances missed, the dipping and lifting melody and the general melancholy. She didn't question Eira's decision to sing that particular song for her, knowing she wouldn't receive an honest answer.

She adored her Lady, their odd friendship was one of the few things she enjoyed about the Court, but she knew well enough that they were not friends who confided in each other about their personal feelings. It was something she had accepted that she would not know what was occurring between her son and Lady Eira. It niggled at her not to know their progress but asking either of them would only push them away from her. She knew both of them so well, whether either of them were willing to admit it or not.

"Your Grace?"

Frigga blinked back to the present, finding Eira peering at her curiously. She smiled, brushing a stray curl of hair back from Eira's cheek fondly.

"Are you well, Your Grace? You look… concerned."

Frigga's smile widened, stroking Eira's cheek.

"Pay it no mind, songbird." Frigga laughed softly, leaning back against the plush cushions. "Simply the musings of an old lady."

* * *

"That is categorically untrue."

Eira lifted her eyebrows and blinked her big green eyes innocently.

"You accuse me of being a liar, Prince?"

Loki tried to frown at her but his eyes were crinkled with amusement. He despised court gossip, yet being imprisoned for all eternity changed one's priorities. He found the gossip itself ridiculous, but he was amused to no end by her disdain for the court intrigues that swelled around her all day.

"Perhaps you're right. Mayhap there was an entirely innocuous reason for Lord Arvid to be secreted in one of the servant's hallways, in the dead of night, with Lady Agatha." Eira shrugged magnanimously.

"Certainly." Loki agreed with a wicked grin. "Perhaps the same reason you were in that hallway. In the dead of night."

Eira gave him a stern look, turning away from him primly and Loki grinned.

"You know perfectly well I was looking for something at your mother's request." She sniffed.

Loki tweaked an eyebrow, his grin settling into a smirk that made her fingertips tingle.

"I certainly hope so, nightingale." He murmured.

Eira tilted her head, trying to decide if he was mocking her or being genuine. On the one hand, his every word was manipulative. On the other, he did not seem the type to share. She bristled slightly at his presumption that he could claim her by kissing her one measly time. He was sitting against the wall of the cell, one leg pulled up casually and his foot inches away from her. She was leaning against the bed across the cell, her long legs stretched out before her towards him. He had stopped trying to physically intimidate her whenever she entered the cell and was willing to sit on the same level as her even if that was the ground. That could almost be called progress. If she didn't remain so suspicious, she'd almost think it was humbling for him to act this way towards her. A concession on his part that she imagined few others could expect from him.

"How so, Prince?" She challenged sweetly, subtly shifting so her hair slipped from her bare shoulder and bared her golden skin a little.

Loki narrowed his eyes, a predatory look flickering over his face. She looked innocently back at him through her lashes. Almost challenging him.

"What else would I have been doing?" She questioned modestly. "What do you think women do in the dead of night in dimly lit corridors… Prince?"

"With Lord Arvid, perish the thought." Loki replied with an affected shudder, examining his nails indifferently.

"Don't be flippant, Prince." She sulked, pouting prettily at him.

"I would hope." He said suddenly, skewering her with those intense blue eyes. "You have no experience in dimly lit hallways with grubby Lords, nightingale."

"With Lords?" She deliberately held her guileless expression, belied by the long lashes and simmering smile. "I choose not to dabble in the Court pond."

His face darkened momentarily and she peered at him curiously. She had never imagined him jealous, possessive maybe, but not jealous. Interesting. Very interesting.

"And elsewhere, nightingale?"

She looked away, remembering her bashful guard guiltily. Not that she had any reason to feel guilty. She felt flustered, as if he could read her thoughts with those wicked blue eyes.

"Come now, Prince. Don't try to convince me that you haven't had your share of simpering maids turning down your sheets for you."

That only seemed to make him more suspicious. She should have known better, expecting him to think of her behaviour on the same level as his own was just foolish. That was not who he was.

"I have had my dalliances." She informed him with a sniff, tilting her chin defiantly. "I am not ashamed. Nor sorry."

Loki pursed his lips thoughtfully, surveying her in silence. Her silken ivory dress was slipping off one shoulder, her hair clashing beautifully against the pale material. Her slim feet and calves were poking out from under the dress where they were stretched out towards him. The shape of the dress clung to her cleavage and emphasised her slender waist. She looked inherently desirable, exuding both stubbornness and defiance.

He couldn't abide those simpering maids, nor the wily court Ladies like cats in heat. She gave off the perfect mix of sultry and proud, comfortable in her own skin and perfectly happy with who she was that he found positively intoxicating. She apologised for nothing, allowed no one to make her doubt herself and lived however she pleased. It was a different kind of freedom, not to be restrained by the thoughts and expectations of others.

It did make him feel odd to think of her life beyond this cell, given that he no longer had one. It was burning in his throat, to ask when her last _dalliance_ was. He was not a jealous man, one would need to be envious of one's inferiors for that and the very idea was laughable. No he was not jealous of men she had picked up and discarded as easily as she discarded the half-eaten grapes on his table. No. To capture her attention, to hold it for longer than a moment, to harness that fire. That was the real challenge. One he was beginning to relish.

"Lord Arvid and Lady Agatha." Loki repeated in an amused tone, picturing the portly Lord with some disdain.

"I'm quite sure his lady wife had a different reaction when she found out." Eira pointed out, trying and failing to suppress a grin; Lady Gayal was a vivid personality at Court.

"Oh quite. I'm certain the Court was agog." Loki drawled. "Outraged flutterings on the surface and gleefully devouring every morsel beneath."

Eira smiled sadly. It was oddly sad that she wanted him to see their ridiculous reactions in person so badly. Anything but this cell. Always this cell. It was smothering him.

"Sing me a song, nightingale." He finally said, leaning back against the wall of the cell and looking remarkably similar to his mother for a moment.

Eira sighed, coiling her hair around her fingers as she pondered. He hadn't kissed her again but he had been the clever, witty Loki she enjoyed so much all evening. She didn't see a need to punish him too badly.

"Nice to meet you, where you been?  
I could show you incredible things  
Magic, madness, heaven sin  
Saw you there and I thought, oh my God look at that face  
You look like my next mistake  
Love's a game, wanna play?  
New money, suit and tie, I can read you like a magazine  
Ain't it funny, rumors, lie, and I know you heard about me  
So hey, let's be friends, I'm dying to see how this one ends  
Grab your passport and my hand  
I can make the bad guys good for a weekend  
So it's gonna be forever  
Or it's gonna go down in flames  
You can tell me when it's over, if the high was worth the pain  
Got a long list of ex-lovers  
They'll tell you I'm insane  
'Cause you know I love the players, and you love the game  
'Cause we're young and we're reckless  
We'll take this way too far  
It'll leave you breathless, or with a nasty scar  
Got a long list of ex-lovers  
They'll tell you I'm insane  
But I've got a blank space baby, and I'll write your name  
Cherry lips, crystal skies  
I could show you incredible things  
Stolen kisses, pretty lies  
You're the King baby, I'm your Queen  
Find out what you want, be that girl for a month  
Wait the worst is yet to come  
Screaming, crying, perfect storm  
I can make all the tables turn  
Rose gardens filled with thorns  
Keep you second guessing like "Oh my God, who is she?"  
I get drunk on jealousy  
But you'll come back each time you leave  
'Cause darling I'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream."

Loki was laughing by the time she finished, genuine enjoyment glimmering in his eyes as she gave her little performance. She never failed to surprise him and watching her rolling her bare shoulders in subtle seductive arches and sliding him glances from under her lashes as she sang the teasing lyrics amused him to no end. Where in the world had his mother found this beguiling creature?

She crossed the cell to pour herself some wine, her swirling skirts dancing by him so closely he felt a breeze brush against his skin. She settled down beside him, sipping her wine in silence.

"Do you like Asgard?" She asked suddenly, the goblet shining in the ugly light of the cell as she sipped.

Loki scrutinised her without replying for a long time. She was staring past him, through the window of the cell and into the darkness beyond. No one currently occupied the cell directly across from him so whatever went on in his cell was largely unobserved. The intricate golden spells keeping him trapped in here glittered in her hair and highlighted her flawless cheekbones.

"It's all I've ever known." He shrugged vaguely, picturing the grand golden hallways, the huge sweeping rooms, the vast seemingly endless library and the intimidating throne room.

"I'm not sure I like it either." She replied, still looking over his shoulder towards the palace lurking above them.

Loki admired the curve of her jaw, the way the tilt of her head elongated her neck and exposed the pearly skin of her chest.

"Sometimes… it's stifling." She murmured and he watched her gaze drift up to the cell ceiling, as if she could see through the bland featureless ceiling and up into the cavernous rooms of the palace. "I can see the appeal." Loki cocked his head slightly, watching the thoughts flit across her face. "Asgard. It's like a living breathing being. So much power, so much knowledge. Its very essence seems alive. Every person here just a cog, keeping its heart beating. I can see why people are drawn here, to be a part of that."

She looked at him suddenly, her piercing cat eyes skewering right through him until he felt his very soul blossoming deep in his chest.

"I can see why you might want to hold it in your hands."

He touched her cheek, almost in exactly the same place his mother had hours earlier, his fingers tracing her jawline and brushing her throat. His thumb traced the curve of her lower lip, slightly reddened from the ruby-red wine. Her gaze was fixed unwaveringly on his face, even as he felt her pulse start to thunder against his fingertips.

"Why does one want to hold anything in their hands, love?"

She seemed to be searching his face for something, colour starting to suffuse her cheeks.

"Control." She suggested, her breath a caress. "Possession."

He smiled, a wicked grin that drew her attention momentarily.

"Perhaps. There are some who would want to hold something purely to say they could, nightingale."

Something dark flickered in her eyes and Loki felt that familiar spark of guilty pleasure in his belly. Why did he choose to hurt someone he cared for, just to know he could? What was this dark craving for power he could never fully suppress.

"I don't doubt." She replied sharply. "Those whose achievements matter only for the act of flaunting them."

She didn't voice it, but he could see it written clearly across her face. She had expected better of him. He felt a spike of irritation. Who was she to question his motives, to try and impose her views on his choices. His grip tightened on her neck, her slender throat so delicate and supple in his long-fingered hand. She glared at him defiantly. If he didn't know any better, he would almost suspect her of daring him to do it. If anyone would, it was her. She was stubborn enough to provoke him into murdering her and still make him feel as if she had allowed it, that the choice had been hers. Infuriating creature.

"Lesser men, nightingale." He murmured. "Only lesser men need crow of their prowess to their inferiors."

He felt every movement of her throat beneath his hand as she swallowed, her pink tongue darting out to moisten her lips.

"Of course, Prince."

Loki squeezed her throat gently, almost tenderly, and then let her go.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Don't own don't sue

Lyrics at the beginning are from 'If I Knew' by Bruno Mars

Lyrics in the middle are from 'Think of Me' by Phantom of the Opera and 'Too Good at Goodbyes' by Sam Smith

 **If I Knew**

 **Chapter** **Ten**

I was a city boy  
Right into danger's where I'd always run, a boy who had his fun  
But I wouldn't've done  
All the things that I have done  
If I knew one day you'd come

Frigga made a strange noise in her throat and Eira glanced up curiously. They were sitting in the grounds under a huge crimson tree, fruit and wine spread out around them and the fluttering ladies of the court dispersed under the surrounding trees speckling the hill. Frigga was reading her personal letters whilst Eira devoured a book beside her in companionable silence.

"Your Grace?"

Frigga gestured towards her with the letter and Eira glimpsed a familiar family crest embossed on the head of it in glimmering ink. Frigga saw Eira's expression change, the shutters flash into place and her pretty face turning into a mask.

"Interesting news, Your Grace?" She asked casually, tapping a long fingernail on the cover of the book.

Frigga shrugged, a slightly devious smile twitching her mouth. It was one of Loki's smiles and it unnerved Eira to see it.

"Your father requests permission to attend court."

Eira smiled sweetly, her face betraying nothing of her inner thoughts.

"Does he say why?"

"I imagine he misses his daughter." Frigga teased, sipping her wine absently.

Eira chose not to reply, tilting her head slightly so the breeze brushed her hair away from her face. There was only one reason her father and stepmother would want to visit court and she did not have the answer they wanted. She felt a flicker of anger in her belly. Why were they interfering in her life? And, more importantly, how was she supposed to sneak into the dungeons with them sniffing around.

"Lady Eira."

Eira glanced impatiently over her shoulder, blinking in surprise to see Prince Thor looming over her. It was the first time she had seen him all evening, given that the feast was being thrown in his honour. It had been a slightly more interesting feast than usual, celebrating another of Thor's victories. She had gossiped with the few Ladies at Court she could tolerate, had drank copious amounts of rich wine with the Queen and danced with several Lords. She had done her best to avoid her father and stepmother as much as possible. Two days in their company had sufficiently reminded her of why she had left home and kept her visits since few and far between.

"Your Highness." Eira got to her feet so she could curtsy.

Thor bowed respectfully, his cheeks flushed and his eyes sparkling from excess.

"Would you dance, My Lady?"

She eyed him suspiciously. She made polite conversation with Thor as her position as his mother's confidant dictated and he was polite and courteous to her and seemed not to dislike her company when they were thrown together. But they did not socialise. However, she couldn't very well refuse him so she smiled as he took her hand and led her between the busy tables to the dancing area. They took up their positions as the music transitioned smoothly from one to song to another, facing each other in line with the rest of the dancers.

Thor was an effective, if somewhat graceless, dancer and everyone at Court was taught the steps to these dances from the cradle. Eira could feel predatory eyes on them as she twirled, could see Frigga's gaze fixed on them as she ducked under Thor's outstretched arm. She was somewhat suspicious that he would suddenly now show her attention so publicly when they had previously only mixed as required at court. Did he suspect something about her relationship with his brother? Did he have spies in the dungeons? Was he about to warn her away from him? She smiled thinly at the very idea.

"You seem distracted, Lady Eira."

Eira hurriedly smiled at Thor as she gave the little hop the dance required, lifting her skirts slightly out of the way. He gave her a surprisingly shrewd look as he drew her towards him, her corsetted bosom briefly brushing against his huge barrel-chest.

"Apologies, Your Highness. It has been a long night."

Thor grinned as they swung towards each other, revolving on the spot with one of his big hands on her waist, before gliding back into their opposite lines. The music changed to a much slower waltz and Eira eyed Thor warily as he took her waist in his hand and held her hand aloft rather elegantly.

"I've been waiting to speak with you, My Lady." Thor said, lowering his gravelly voice to a faint rough murmur over the gentle music.

Eira tensed for a moment before forcing herself to relax and pasting a bland smile across her face. Thor was grinning down at her, his big hand warm through her satin dress and she was starting to feel slightly concerned at what he was intending.

"Oh? I'm honoured, Your Highness." She murmured, averting her eyes demurely as she scrambled to think of a way to get out of this.

"I'm concerned about my mother." Thor said abruptly as they circled gracefully around the floor.

Eira just managed to stifle a relieved laugh, suddenly enjoying the dance much more. This she could handle. She might even try and enjoy it, just for fun.

"I assure you, Your Highness, the Queen is in good spirits." Eira smiled, spinning in unison with the other Ladies until Thor was behind her, their hands interlocked.

"She has been despondent since the events with my brother." Thor grimaced, as they shifted their feet gracefully around each other.

"It upset her greatly." She admitted, pressing back against him just a little.

Prince Thor was not her type, but it never hurt to see if she could push the right buttons on an important man.

"He was always her favourite."

She tilted her head to look up at Thor curiously. He did not seem jealous or morose that his mother preferred his brother, he seemed to just be acknowledging the fact as a given. Curious.

"You will… care for her, Lady Eira?"

She stared at him, almost missing a step of the dance in her surprise. Thor was studiously avoiding her eye, his jaw set stubbornly and his cheeks ruddy with drink and something else.

"Of course, Your Highness." She glanced across at Frigga, laughing privately with the King on the dais. "I am… very fond of Her Grace." She admittedly grudgingly.

Thor threw his head back and laughed, his eyes glimmering brightly and Eira found herself smiling despite herself. She found Prince Thor dull and predictable, but there was something about him that was inherently endearing.

Returning to her seat, she walked smack into her father. It was too late to change direction so she plastered on a grin and dipped into a polite curtsy.

"Father. Are you enjoying your visit?"

Her father grinned happily, his face a brilliant shade of red from drinking and gambling with the other Lords. He reached out and took her hands in his, squeezing lightly.

"Very much so, daughter. Very much."

He leaned towards her, planting a dry kiss on her cheek and hurrying back to the card tables. Eira steeled herself and turned to her stepmother. She looked pretty tonight, her thick raven hair coiled on top of her head and her champagne-coloured dress draping elegantly over her body.

"My Lady." She dipped respectfully.

It's not that she didn't get on with her stepmother, there was no bad feeling between them and she had been a part of her life since she was a small child. It was just… they had different ideas of what Eira's future should be.

"Eira." She gestured and Eira took her arm, dutifully falling into step as they circled around the hall. "You seem friendly with Prince Thor."

Ah. That didn't take long. Eira just managed to restrain herself from rolling her eyes.

"He is an amicable person." Eira said flatly, deliberately directing their steps so they could see Thor dancing with a pretty little blonde goggling up at him in awe.

"He is a very eligible match."

"Indeed." They nodded politely at a gaggle of Ladies as they passed. "For any of the innumerable Ladies here." Eira said pointedly.

"Lady Eira. Lady Atla."

They both turned to find Frigga, curtseying in unison. Eira hovered, trying not to show how mind-numbingly bored she was as Frigga and her stepmother exchanged pleasantries. She had been sent here to find a suitable husband and had done her very best to do the complete opposite. Their arrival here was interfering with the life she had made for herself and, as much as she loved them, she was ready for them to head home. Having them here was like being a chaperoned child again.

"Eira."

She blinked out of her brooding daze to find her stepmother beckoning her imperiously from beside Thor and Frigga. She stifled a curse, forced a smile to her face and drifted over to them.

* * *

Loki was pouting, sulking that his nightingale hadn't been to visit him. She could never understand how dull it was being confined to these four walls for all eternity. No one understood his suffering. His mother had materialised in his cell a good hour ago and had bored him rigid since talking about court gossip and his brother's triumphs.

"She's unable to visit." Frigga said suddenly and he glared at her. "Her family are at court."

Loki's scowl deepened. He did not enjoy sharing. How dare she abandon him for something so trivial.

"They are looking into her marriage prospects."

Frigga hurriedly averted her gaze when Loki's face turned black with anger.

"What nonsense." He managed to get out in an icy voice.

Frigga shrugged, tightening her cheeks to mask her gleeful smile. She'd never admit it but she shared a mischievous streak with her favourite son.

"Not at all. Her family is of good character and wealthy. She is young and beautiful, in favour at court. A very good prospect for a minor Lord."

"A weak, vapid fool no doubt." Loki curled his lip contemptuously, he had no time for the fools at court.

"I'm sure her father will decide what is best." Frigga smiled sedately, as if she thoroughly agreed that parents should sell their children off to the highest bidder, a tradition she had fought to wipe out in her Court.

Loki bit his tongue to keep his response in his mouth. His mother was deliberately provoking him and he would not give her the satisfaction. Once it was clear that Loki would not engage with her attempts at conversation, Frigga took her leave, emerging from the trance-like state the spell left her in wearily. She found Eira playing cards with her step-mother and several Ladies in one of the Queen's outer private chambers. She looked as stunning as ever, her glittering hair coiled at the crown of her head and her mint-green dress turning her bare arms to gold. She practically leapt out of her seat when Frigga beckoned for her and she hurriedly excused herself and fell into step behind the Queen.

"Are you enjoying your family visit?" Frigga asked curiously as Eira helped her disrobe and climb into the steaming bathtub already prepared.

"Of course, Your Grace." Eira said politely, pouring a fresh jar of scented oil into the water.

"Have they found you a suitable match?"

Eira dropped the oval bar of soap into the water in surprise. She eyed Frigga warily as she retrieved it.

"Not that I know of, Your Grace."

Frigga lifted her eyebrows as Eira ran the rose-petal encrusted soap over her arms, somewhat enjoying the expression in her brilliant green eyes. She knew very well that her son was a master manipulator, but he was remarkably unobservant when it came to his own emotions. Eira was somewhat more aware of herself but it was inherently amusing to Frigga that the two of them were too stubborn to admit what was right under their noses. Amusing and more than a little entertaining.

"Have… have they approached you, Your Grace?" Eira asked in a strained voice as she used a soft sponge to wipe away the soap.

No one at court could marry without Royal approval. Odin was only interested in granting this when it affected his political interests so it usually fell to the Queen. If her parents were contemplating a match for her, they would have spoken to Frigga for consent to begin negotiations. Frigga let the question hover ominously for a moment for own amusement, before shaking her head. Eira's body visibly relaxed and she discarded the sponge, crossing the marble room to retrieve a golden jug.

"Would you be concerned, if they had?" Frigga queried, tilting her head back so Eira could pour fresh water onto her hair. The scent of roses filled the room, permeating the steamy air.

"I… I'm not sure, Your Grace." Eira replied honestly, shifting position so she could begin to comb the twists and tangles out of Frigga's hair. "I hadn't thought this situation would arrive so soon." She paused for a moment. "I thought I had more time."

Frigga glanced at the mirrored wall opposite the tub when she felt Eira's hands still on her hair. Their reflections were hazy from the steam but Eira was peering intently at something only she could see, her face a mask of concentration. In fact she almost looked as if she'd been struck by one of Thor's thunderbolts. Frigga decided to take pity on her, given how stricken the poor child suddenly looked.

"Why don't I entertain your parents with the King tonight." Frigga suggested, a sly smile flickering across her mouth. "Leave you free to pursue your own… interests."

Eira carefully schooled her face into a polite mask of gratitude, but Frigga could see her eyes were sparkling.

* * *

She was almost caught on her way to the dungeons. She was rounding the corner, admittedly in more of a hurry than usual and therefore somewhat careless, when her step mother's strident tones reached her and she all but skidded to a halt. To her everlasting shame, she ducked into an alcove behind a gigantic statue like a coward and waited for the Ladies to pass by, twittering inanely about some nonsense.

She paused at the dungeon door, smiling at the guard politely. It was her guard, she realised belatedly, the one she had toyed with in her bedroom. She felt heat flush up her neck as his eyes followed her through the doorway and into the darkness of the dungeon. She puzzled over the encounter as she descended the stone stairs. She had never felt shy or embarrassed when she had encountered one of her dalliances before. Why was she practically squirming now?

Just before she reached Loki's cell, she carefully wiped her face of emotion and slipped on her mask. She had not been away from him this long since the visits had started and she wasn't certain what his reaction was going to be.

Spoilt brat, as it turned out.

He pointedly ignored her as she stepped into his cell, bringing with her a cloud of jasmine and frangipani. He felt his mouth water slightly, which only irritated him further. The fact that she looked more stunning than ever only enflamed his anger. Her scented hair was in an elaborate heavy braid over one shoulder, glinting in the ugly cell lights. Her mint green dress hugged her slender waist and emphasised the curve of her hips, her delicate ankles peeking out from under the shortened hem. He had decided to ignore her as punishment for abandoning him for so long, until he caught sight of the faint flush on her chest colouring her cheeks and pretty ears.

He frowned. His eyes narrowing thoughtfully. She avoided his gaze, turning to pour herself a goblet of wine from his table. She was feeling guilty of something. His abandonment? Possibly. Curiosity got the better of him and he tossed his book aside. He almost missed it, but he could have sworn there was a flicker of suspicion in her eyes as she handed him the goblet. Given that he was not supposed to have guests, he was only permitted one goblet which meant they must share. He wondered if she knew that he had never shared something like this with anyone before, not even Thor or Frigga when he was a child. The perks of Royalty meant nothing ever needed to be shared or handed down. To him, even sharing something as simple as a goblet of truly terrible wine, was an act of intimacy.

"You seem… nervous, nightingale." He murmured, staring at her unflinchingly over the rim of the goblet.

Usually she met his gaze head on but her eyes slid away for a split second before meeting his again.

"I was uncertain of my reception, Prince." She said carefully, tilting her head slightly.

Loki scowled. She had trapped him again. If he continued to sulk at her she would know she was right. Infuriating woman. His fingers twitched slightly with the urge to throttle her as a faint grin flitted across her face.

"Why would that be, nightingale?" He said gaily, slipping the goblet from her grasp and gesturing grandly around his cell.

She glared at him, sensing the provocation but choosing to overlook it. He watched her as she sank into the uncomfortable chair with remarkable dignity, her elegant swan-like neck exposed in all its glory. His fingers twitched again as a drop of molten desire stirred beneath his belly.

He turned away from her, crossing the cell idly with the goblet held loosely in his hand. She was on edge, worried that her long absence had given him time to revise the progress they had made. He studied her reflection in the cell wall curiously. She was watching him carefully, her clever eyes narrowed as she concentrated and her pretty mouth pursed.

"I believe your parents are in search of a husband for you."

She blinked in surprise at the lightening subject change. Immediately, he could see the cogs turning as she tried to understand his angle. Colour crept along her cheekbones, only making her eyes more captivating.

"That is their plan." She admitted curtly, not in the least interested in this topic of conversation.

"Not your plan?" He tossed back idly, sipping the dregs of the wine.

"Certainly not." She blurted out before she could help herself.

He turned back to face her. She held out her hand imperiously for the goblet and he felt his lips lift slightly. He extended the goblet towards her, his eyebrows curving challengingly. She didn't move, tilting her wrist slightly until the polish on her nails flashed in the light. She was not going to give him the satisfaction of rising to retrieve the wine from him. No matter, he could allow her a victory or two. Being magnanimous was not in his nature, it pleased him to wield such tools on occasion. He stepped towards her, placing the goblet in her outstretched hand with a flourish of his free hand.

"Marriage is not in your future?" He continued, graciously topping up the wine in the goblet from the golden pitcher.

"Not in the near future, no." She said icily, gulping down some of the wine.

Loki moved beside her, taking the goblet back. Their fingers brushed and he saw her shiver slightly, even as he felt a treacherous flutter at the base of his spine.

"I will not be trapped." She murmured, so quietly he barely heard her.

He realised they were both still holding onto the goblet, fingers touching faintly on the delicately engraved metal. She followed his gaze, staring at their interlacing fingers curiously. His hands were paler than hers, long slender fingers tapering elegantly. The dark polish on her long nails glimmered in the light from the cell.

"Is marriage a trap?" He pondered disinterestedly, sliding the goblet from her grip.

On the few occasions his father had raised the topic of marriage for his sons, his mother had immediately put her foot down. Provided her sons chose to love a girl not too far down the social ladder, Frigga saw no reason to interfere in their love lives. Loki had not cared either way; he would go his own way regardless of a wife at home or not. Naturally he had never thought about it from the theoretical wife's point of view. Why would he bother.

He looked down at her, her chin tilted defiantly as she gazed up at him. He tried to imagine her shackled to some fool Lord, hosting dinners and balls and providing his land with heirs. What nonsense. Such a dangerous spirit needed someone who could keep up with her. Her lips parted slightly, as if words were perched on the tip of her tongue. He turned away.

"Sing me a song, nightingale."

She closed her mouth, something almost like disappointment flitting across her eyes.

"You must think that I'm stupid  
You must think that I'm a fool  
You must think that I'm new to this  
But I have seen this all before  
I'm never gonna let you close to me  
Even though you mean the most to me  
'Cause every time I open up, it hurts  
So I'm never gonna get too close to you  
Even when I mean the most to you  
In case you go and leave me in the dirt  
But every time you hurt me, the less that I cry  
And every time you leave me, the quicker these tears dry  
And every time you walk out, the less I love you  
Baby, we don't stand a chance, it's sad but it's true  
I'm way too good at goodbyes."

Loki wanted to squirm and he furiously fought the urge. He wasn't certain if she was mocking him or not. She didn't seem to be, in fact she seemed almost sad. What was bothering him was that he couldn't tell if this was an act or not. Curious.

"Ask your question, nightingale."

She sighed, turning away from him. There was that look again. Disappointment. He was certain that was what it was. It was a fleeting impression, darting across her face leaving a shadow behind. After a moment, she faced him.

"Should I accept a marriage, if one is arranged?"

He blinked. That was not at all what he had expected. He felt a sudden rush of something, flooding his insides and boiling in his chest. Cold and hot at the same time. He rarely bothered trying to identify his emotions so he didn't look too closely, but something must have shown on his face because she was studying him inquisitively.

"Nightingale, I'm the last God who would advise anyone to go against the wishes of their parents." His teeth flashed that wolfish grin and her saw her lips twist to contain a reciprocal smile. "However I cannot see a future for someone such as you, as some lowly Lord's Lady, fluttering around my mother for all eternity."

It was the closest thing to a genuine compliment he had ever given her and he watched her neck flush pleasantly, her eyes widening in surprise and her lips parting slightly.

"Do they have any particular fool in mind?"

She cocked her head, amusement suddenly glimmering in her eyes.

"My step mother has her mind set on your brother."

Loki was glad his hands were clasped behind his back. If they hadn't been, she would have seen his fist clench convulsively and seemingly of its own volition. It was only due to his impressive self control that his face remained impassive as she studied him carefully for his reaction.

"A fool indeed." He laughed carelessly, unclenching his fist behind his back. "I highly doubt the King will allow that."

Her eyes narrowed at the implied insult, true though it may be. That was always the way with her Prince; a compliment out of nowhere swiftly followed by a pointed insult to ensure any pleasure the compliment may have induced vanished rapidly.

"I certainly hope not." She shrugged one shoulder, the braid resting across it shifting slightly.

Loki waited but she did not elaborate and damned if he was going to ask her to explain.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Don't own don't sue

Lyrics at the beginning are from 'If I Knew' by Bruno Mars

Lyrics in the middle are from 'Something Just Like This' by Coldplay (originally, however I had the Madilyn Bailey version in mind)

 **If I Knew**

 **Chapter** **Eleven**

I was a city boy  
Right into danger's where I'd always run, a boy who had his fun  
But I wouldn't've done  
All the things that I have done  
If I knew one day you'd come

Something was going on. Eira prodded unenthusiastically at her food with a golden fork, eyeing her step mother suspiciously across the table. Lady Atla had been fluttering around court for the past week looking like all of her dreams had come true. If she hadn't known her so well, she'd assume she had suddenly fallen in love.

It was actually much worse.

"Eira, darling."

She abandoned her food, eyeing her step mother warily as she beckoned her. Lady Atla took her arm and whisked her out of the banquet hall and onto the huge balcony. The balcony was wide enough for several people to walk abreast but, given the punishing heat of the midday sun, it was sparsely populated while the rest of the Court took refuge in the cool banquet hall for lunch.

"I thought you would like to know how things are proceeding." Lady Atla was never one for small talk when there were more important things to discuss.

"My Lady?"

Lady Atla gave her an indulgent smile, tugging on her arm to pull her closer.

"Don't play coy, daughter." She giggled. "Your marriage."

Eira was so surprised she stopped in her tracks, jerking painfully on her step mother's arm. Lady Atla gave her a chastising frown, touching her shoulder reproachfully. She gave an impatient tug on Eira's arm, still linked through hers, and they fell into step again.

"I was not aware-"

"Come now!" Lady Atla laughed. "It's past time you were married. You have been at Court long enough to make connections of your own, a name for yourself. You're a beautiful girl, from a good family. You have the favour of the Queen which gives you influence."

Eira's face got stonier with every word. This was exactly what she had hoped to avoid, what she had left home to escape. She could feel the tethers tightening around her again.

"Now is the perfect time."

Eira bit back her anger, taking a few seconds to compose her expression before she ripped Lady Atla's head off. It would do no good to alienate her now and decapitating one's step mother after lunch was most certainly frowned upon.

"I'm grateful for your concerns regarding my future, Lady Step-Mother." She said coolly. "Unfortunately, I do not wish to wed."

"Oh don't be silly." Lady Atla chortled, flapping away her protests with an airy hand.

"I assure you, My Lady, I am entirely serious." Eira said icily, clamping down on her irritation.

Lady Atla rolled her eyes, tossing her hair back playfully.

"You are a funny one." She smiled affectionately. "Your father has entered into negotiations. Testing the waters, so to speak."

Eira struggled to keep a grip on her patience. Her step-mother was somewhat flighty, but she was well-meaning.

"Dangling the hook to see who bites?"

Lady Atla giggled, pinching her arm lightly. Eira rolled her eyes. The marriage between Lady Atla and her father had been arranged between her father and Atla's father a year after the death of Eira's mother. It would never occur to Lady Atla that a pretty young woman from a good family might not want a good husband who could give her and their children a secure future. She never had understood her step daughter.

"Do I learn who this gentleman is? Or will it be a pleasant surprise awaiting me at the altar?" She asked sweetly.

"Well, I don't suppose it will do any harm." Lady Atla said coyly, the sarcasm going entirely over her head as she glanced around the balcony surreptitiously. "Lord Moncliere."

Eira raised her eyebrows but otherwise managed not to react. Lord Moncliere was a recently widowed Lord of good repute. His lands provided the materials that were used to build all boats at Asgard, including the Royal barges and the Royal Fleet. He was still relatively young, by Asgard standards, his wife of scant years dying in a boating accident over a year ago. He was a good choice, even she could admit that. Her step-mother was still whittering, extolling his virtues in a steady stream that Eira chose to block out rather than respond to for her own sanity.

As they circled the balcony, a group of Lords emerged from the banquet hall and it came as no surprise to Eira that her father and Lord Moncliere were amongst them. She dipped politely into a curtsy, kissing her father on the cheek as he bounded over to them happily. Eira eyed her possible future husband from beneath her lashes. He was a little taller than her, built more along the lines of Prince Thor than his brother, with a shock of brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard. His dark eyes sparkled and his plump lower lip was curled in an amused grin.

"Lady Eira." He greeted her politely, taking her outstretched hand and brushing his lips across the back of it.

"Lord Moncliere." She smiled ruefully.

He offered her his arm and she took it politely, her father and step-mother falling into step behind them as they began a circuit of the balcony. They made small talk for the first few minutes, exchanging pleasantries and asking after mutual friends. The usual Court nonsense.

"I take it Lady Atla has broached the subject with you."

She laughed in surprise.

"Lady Atla is not known for her ability to keep secrets."

Lord Moncliere chuckled, glancing over his shoulder at Lady Atla practically dragging her husband along behind them to keep up with them.

"This is somewhat awkward for you."

She smiled in surprise, somewhat taken aback. She had spoken to Lord Moncliere at Court, flirted even, but they had never had a serious conversation. In fact she had no real sense of him beyond the common known facts of his life.

"I assure you, My Lady, I did not plan to arrange this without your knowledge."

She eyed him out of the corner of her eye curiously. He seemed almost sheepish. Curious. Most Lords at the Court cherry-picked their brides based on what profit or prestige joining their families could bring. It would most certainly not occur to them to discuss their plans with their actual brides beforehand.

"I appreciate that, My Lord." She smiled shyly at him and he grinned.

"Are you… amenable to the idea?"

She looked at him thoughtfully. He was still young and handsome, well thought of at Court and certainly rich enough to give her a lifestyle to rival any of the Ladies here. From the flush creeping over his cheeks, he also seemed to have a certain affection for her that meant the match was not entirely one of practicality. That was useful. It was always better to have a man more enamoured of you than you were with them. It made them easier to manipulate, should the need arise. She realised that he was waiting for her answer, a frown starting to tug at his lips.

"I am… not entirely opposed to the idea, My Lord." She finally said. "It is surely something to prepare for. In the future." She said deliberately, hoping he was intelligent enough to understand.

His countenance lightened and he hurriedly looked away from her to hide a smile. She glanced over her shoulder at her step mother, trying her hardest to listen in.

"Of course, Lady Eira. I should not like to rush you into anything you were not comfortable with."

She smiled prettily at him and he grinned shyly back.

This was not something that could be undone quickly, she would need to step carefully for now. If she refused Lord Moncliere, that would not solve her problem. There would be another suitor in line and the next one may not be so easily handled.

* * *

"I hear negotiations for your marriage are afoot."

Eira glanced up at Frigga, the pages of the book in her lap rifling lazily in the breeze. They were ensconced on Frigga's private balcony against the late afternoon sun, taking advantage of how high up her chambers were to catch the breath of a breeze.

"I believe so, Your Grace."

Frigga's golden eyebrows arched enquiringly and Eira cocked her head. It had been over a week since her conversation with Lady Atla and Lord Moncliere on the balcony. The gentleman had joined them for almost every meal since then, had partnered her at least once for every dance and had taken her for many walks around the palace and grounds. He was surprisingly pleasant to talk to and his company was enjoyable. A different kind of company to the Prince, certainly, but not entirely disagreeable.

"You have no opinion on the matter?" Frigga ventured idly, sipping a crystal goblet of water flavoured with exotic fruits. "I find that very unlikely, songbird."

Eira's lips twitched.

"I have an opinion on several aspects of this event." She mused, staring at the book in her hands without seeing the words on the pages.

"I'm curious to hear them all." Frigga laughed, closing her eyes and tilting back her head as a breeze ruffled her hair and cooled her brow.

"The first would be Lord Moncliere himself." Eira decided to go for the easiest option first. "A very fine man who is proving to be pleasant company and most unhurried in our courtship."

"Something you appreciate." The Queen observed without opening her eyes.

"Indeed. I believe as a husband, I would be hard-pressed to find a more suitable match." Eira chewed on her lip thoughtfully. "Especially given my… foibles." She admitted.

She knew very well that her independent character, some might go so far as to call it an attitude, caused many at Court to find her overbearing and bold. She had little patience for anything that did not directly concern her or her future and she used her feminine wiles to achieve her aims. There were probably many men at Court who desired her, but few who would want to try and control her when they could have a silly pretty ornament of a wife instead.

"The match itself is… satisfactory." She continued thoughtfully. "He has plenty of land and a thriving business. His estate is not too far from Court, I believe."

Frigga smiled, peeking out from under her lashes at her.

"Sounds ideal." She observed, waving away a tiny hovering bird idly.

"Yes… it would be." Eira averted her gaze.

"If you wanted to marry." Frigga said bluntly, bringing the conversation to its logical conclusion.

Eira didn't reply. She was selfish. She knew that. Lord Moncliere was a perfectly reasonable choice for a husband, in fact she was relatively lucky. But she didn't want to marry, she never had. At least not until she could no longer get her own way here.

"Are you ready to leave Court?"

Eira stared at the Queen. The real question hovered in the air between them, unspoken yet still tangible. She was not ready to leave Court, that was true, but she was most definitely not ready to leave behind her Prince. Her conversations with Lord Moncliere were sweet nonsense, nothing that tested her intellect or captured her attention. When he turned his merry brown eyes on her, she did not feel every inch of her body tingling like lightening. When she danced with him, she did not feel that little forbidden thrill with every twirling pass that brought their bodies within a breath of touching. He did not infuriate her to the point where she simply had to kiss him, or slap him. She did not feel like she had successfully tamed a wild animal, who was perfectly capable of ripping her throat out, for the few brief hours they had together.

"My dear." Frigga leaned forwards and took Eira's hand in hers. "This is not a decision to be taken lightly." Eira blinked at her in surprise, glancing down at her hand cradled in Frigga's. "You must think very carefully before you acquiesce."

She gave her a motherly smile, her golden hair glimmering in the sun. Her eyes were sparkling intelligently and Eira could almost see the shadow of her son's clever mind behind them.

* * *

"What is the matter with you?" Loki snapped, scowling at the figure hunched before him.

She had been somewhat miserable for her last few visits and it was starting to irritate him. She did visit him purely to keep him entertained, did she not? She averted her gaze, her pretty mouth drawn into a frown.

"I have a lot on my mind, Prince."

Loki bit back an irritable remark and glowered at her. He should be the only thing on her mind. He slid a smile onto his face, taking her hand in his and drawing her to feet. She eyed him suspiciously, not buying the disingenuous smile on his face for a moment. The more handsome he looked, the more dangerous he could be.

"What is it, nightingale?"

She glared at him, trying to remove her hand from his grip. He tightened his fingers on hers, his smile getting wider.

"Do not pretend you care, Prince."

"Pretending is what I do." He murmured, drawing her closer to him.

She stopped struggling against him, pouting up at him mutinously.

"Do not mock me." She said sulkily, knowing full well that she was playing right into his hands.

"Tell me what troubles you, love."

She was sure that anyone else saying those words would have seemed tender and romantic. Not so her Prince.

"You don't care." She responded childishly, her eyes accusing on his face.

"Of course not." He snickered. "However I'm certain that you will continue in this frame of mind until you unburden yourself." Loki gestured grandly with the free hand that wasn't clutching onto hers. "Therefore the sooner it is off your chest, the better." He purred, glancing at the aforementioned body part.

She shoved him in the chest with a squeak of outrage, merely succeeding in rumpling his shirt. He arched an eyebrow at her imperiously and, for a split second, she wanted nothing more than to shock him.

"I'm soon to be wed."

Not by the flicker of an eyelash did Loki reveal the sudden violent flare of jealousy that exploded in his chest. His grip tightened on her hand until she winced.

"You're hurting me, Prince."

With great effort, he managed to reign in his temper and douse the inexplicable fire raging against his lungs. She was glaring up at him, her eyes narrowed to slits of icy green and her delectable mouth plumped into a pout. He ensured his mask was still in place, before she could glimpse any of the emotions flitting in rapid succession through his mind.

"Congratulations." He said silkily, lifting her captured hand to his lips.

Her cheeks darkened slightly as he brushed his lips against the back of her palm teasingly. He had confused her, he could see the cogs turning behind those clever eyes of hers.

"That's it?" She blurted out, the flush on her cheeks now matching her pretty rose-pink gown.

"It hardly affects myself." Loki shrugged one shoulder in careless elegance, turning her hand over and nipping at her palm gently with his teeth.

"I thought you found entertainment in our bargain, Prince." She said icily, trying valiantly to ignore the tantalising feel of his breath against the delicate skin of her palm.

"Assuredly, I do." Loki admitted magnanimously, using the tip of his tongue to trace the pulse-point beating in her wrist.

She scowled at him in confusion, ignoring the goosebumps that had sprung to life all over her naked arm.

"I don't expect this development to disrupt our arrangement." He scoffed, deftly manoeuvring himself a little closer to her using his grip on her wrist.

"You don't think my husband might notice my frequent absences?"

Her hand was still caught in his and he glanced at her from beneath his lashes, his lips a breath away from her skin. His midnight eyes were shining wickedly and she felt her belly turn over.

"I have faith that you could find a way to ensure he does not, My Lady." He murmured slyly, his fingertips tickling her sensitive palm.

She pursed her lips and managed not to roll her eyes.

"And what manner of wife would I be? Sneaking away from my honest husband's marital bed to dally with a prisoner by night?"

Loki ignored the barb of 'prisoner', sliding his arm around her slender waist and drawing her ever closer.

"Who is this lucky husband?"

She tilted her head back to look at him suspiciously, but she saw no way to refuse to name him without arousing his interest further. She shuddered at the thought of what might happen, being caged down here did not make him any less dangerous.

"Lord Moncliere."

Loki cocked his head, conjuring an image of the man in his mind. He was a trifling Lord, far beneath his notice. Not one of his brother's inner circle so clearly not a warrior of any repute. He was handsome enough, he admitted sulkily, rich and well thought of. He had never bothered making his acquaintance. The man was far beneath him after all. From his reputation, however, this was a good match for her. That would not do at all.

"Sing me my song, nightingale." He whispered against her ear, her silken jasmine-scented hair coiling against his cheek.

He released her suddenly and she swayed a little, almost as if she had been in a trance. After a moment she resumed her seat on the chair, waiting until he had seated himself on his bed and gestured grandly for her to begin.

"I've been reading books of old, the legends and the myths  
Achilles and his gold, Hercules and his gifts  
Spiderman's control, and Batman with his fists  
And clearly I don't see myself upon that list  
But she said, where'd you wanna go?  
How much you wanna risk?  
I'm not looking for somebody with some superhuman gifts  
Some superhero, some fairytale bliss  
Just something I can turn to  
Somebody I can kiss  
Oh I want something just like this  
Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo  
I want something just like this  
I've been reading books of old, the legends and the myths  
The testaments they told, the moon and its eclipse  
And Superman unrolls, a suit before he lifts  
But I'm not the kind of person that it fits  
She said, where'd you wanna go?  
How much you wanna risk?  
I'm not looking for somebody with some superhuman gifts  
Some superhero, some fairytale bliss  
Just something I can turn to  
Somebody I can miss  
Oh, I want something just like this."

Loki frowned. He knew she carefully selected her song choices for very specific reasons. He was trying to work out if she had chosen this one to deliberately mock him. He tilted his head as he pondered, indicating for her to ask her question. She sighed, looking almost disappointed.

"Would you ever have married?" She asked absently, looking as if she really couldn't care less what his answer was. That rankled.

"I imagine so." He shrugged. "Odin would have ordered it eventually. He preferred to dangle the idea in front of the fools he wished to coax into falling under Asgard's rule."

She avoided his eye, hearing the strange mix of disgust and longing in his voice. It occurred to her that, given the option, the fools the idea was dangled in front of would choose Prince Thor over her Prince. Fools, indeed. Prince Thor was a pleasant, if dull, piece on the board. If anything he would be a useful trophy to parade around and his abilities in leading a land at war were admittedly impressive. Yes, her Prince was the one who could bring a world to its knees. With only a few words, she was certain he would manage it somehow.

His face was dark, as if he were following her line of thinking, and she shivered.


End file.
